


Honeymoon Holidays

by flowerfan



Series: Season 7 future!fics [13]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Communication, Depression, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, future!fic, klaineadvent, married!klaine, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 09:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 27,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5328407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerfan/pseuds/flowerfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Kurt and Blaine’s first winter holidays together as a married couple fall so quickly after their wedding that sometimes they almost seem like a continuation of their honeymoon.  But not always.</i>
</p>
<p>  <i>A story in the “Season 7” series that looks at events in the early married life of Kurt and Blaine, written in connection with the 2015 Klaine Advent challenge.  The name of each chapter is the prompt.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anniversary

_November, 2014_

“You’re not really going to celebrate every wedding anniversary with Brittany and Santana, are you?” Burt asks, leaning back in the kitchen chair, which squeaks in protest. “Because to be honest, that sounds kinda weird.”

“God, no, dad,” Kurt scoffs, handing his empty dessert plate to Carole as she clears the table. “And how did you even get that idea?”

“Brittany called me. Said she couldn’t talk long, because Santana was waiting for her on a sunken ship-” Burt frowns in confusion and shakes his head “-but that she wanted me to be there next year to officiate again.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Kurt says. 

“You’ll tell her you don’t need to actually get married every year on your anniversary, right?”

Blaine smiles, brushing his hand along Kurt’s shoulder as he gets up from the table and goes over to the sink to help Carole. Their honeymoon had gotten cut short with the news of the fire at Dalton, but a comfortable Friday night dinner at the Hudson-Hummels is helping to calm them both. It’s good to see Kurt with his dad as they laugh together and trade stories. While Blaine is looking forward to going back to New York City next semester, there has been something awfully healing about having this time in Lima with their families. He’s glad they aren’t going back to the city until after the holidays.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Carole says when Blaine offers to dry the dishes. “But there’s really not much left to do.” She looks up at Blaine and then glances over at Kurt and Burt, who are chuckling over another Brittany-related memory. “Come on, there’s something I want to show you.”

Carole leads Blaine back into her bedroom, and carefully takes a large book out of a dresser drawer, laying it on the bed and motioning Blaine over. “This is for you and Kurt.”

Blaine sits down on the bed, curiously running his fingers over the cover of the scrapbook, which is emblazoned with “Kurt and Blaine” in the style of Broadway lights. He opens it up, and sucks in a breath as he sees the first pages of photos, pictures of him and Kurt from almost exactly four years ago, the day Kurt transferred to Dalton. There’s one of Kurt standing outside Dalton’s regal front entrance, Blaine helping him into his blazer (it was a symbolic picture, Blaine remembers, as Kurt had already had the blazer for days, sending Blaine texts about the inferior quality of the fabric even as he proudly posed in it for all his McKinley friends). There’s a picture of the two of them at the bottom of the grand staircase, and a somewhat blurry picture of Burt giving Kurt a hug in the parking lot. Along the top of the page is written “Dalton Days” in blocky letters, and the background is a dark blue with red accents clearly designed to reflect the Dalton colors.

“Where on earth did you get these pictures?” Blaine asks. “I’ve never seen them before.” And he surely would have remembered them if he had; Kurt looks downright adorable.

“They were on my phone,” Carole says sheepishly.

“For four years?”

Carole laughs and ducks her head into her hands. “Um, yes? When I got a new phone this summer, the guy at the store showed me and Burt how to download the pictures onto our computer. Burt had some on his phone, too. We honestly hadn’t had a clue how to do it before that.”

“This is amazing,” Blaine says, gazing at the photographs. Kurt looks so young, and Blaine does, too. He examines a picture of Wes shaking Kurt’s hand in greeting and sees himself in the background, grinning like a loon. Blaine remembers how happy he was that Kurt was joining him at Dalton, not just because they would get to spend more time together, but because Kurt would now be safe, just like Blaine was, wrapped in the protective shield of the Dalton crest. A Dalton that would still be protecting boys like them, if it was still there.

“They’ll rebuild it, Blaine,” Carole says softly, as if she was reading his mind. “But it’s not the building that matters, you know.”

Blaine nods, his throat tight. “It’s where we met,” he says, knowing this isn’t news to Carole.

“It’s an important part of your story,” she says in agreement. “But there’s a lot more to it.” Carole turns the pages of the scrapbook, showing Blaine the pages documenting all the years he has already spent with Kurt, the proms and the performances, the afternoons in the Hummels’ backyard, and the dinners out at Breadstix. There’s a picture of Christmas at the Bushwick loft in 2012, Kurt and Blaine posing in front of the table they had decorated with Burt – Blaine can remember that moment as if it was yesterday, Kurt obediently putting his arm around Blaine for the photograph, both of them glancing at each other nervously to make sure it was all right. By the next Christmas, they were boyfriends again, riding the high of living together in the city, but the photo from that time is formulaic and stiff. Blaine remembers their holiday break in Lima that year, both of them knowing that something was wrong between them, but not being able – or willing – to articulate it yet.

The pictures of the two of them at their impromptu wedding are a stark contrast to the photos from the year before. 

Carole smiles, pushing a bit of ribbon back down where it belongs across the top of the wedding pages. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Kurt look happier,” she says, turning to Blaine. “The two of you are very lucky.”

“We are.” Blaine turns the pages of the scrapbook and blushes as he sees the headings on the next few, blank spaces obviously intended to be filled in over the coming years. “First Anniversary” is decorated with confetti, “Fifth Anniversary” has drawings of trees… it goes on. 

Blaine hopes the book isn’t too optimistic. He glances up, and sees Carole giving him an appraising stare. “Have faith in yourselves,” she says firmly. “We do.”

It occurs to Blaine that this is a remarkably detailed project to have been thrown together in the week or so since their wedding. “When, exactly, did you make this book?”

Carole’s mouth quirks up at the corner. “During the summer, like I said. When I figured out how to get the pictures off my phone.”

“But…” But we broke up, Blaine thinks. Kurt called off the wedding. “I’m surprised you kept it, after...”

“I told you, we have faith in you.” 

“I’m glad someone does,” Blaine mutters, the words slipping out before he can stop them. “Oh shoot, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that… of course we…” He’s at a loss. Carole doesn’t need to know how fragile this still feels, how hard it is to believe that the person he thought was gone from his life forever is now his _husband._ How he sometimes catches a look of concern on Kurt’s face he hasn’t seen in years, an insecurity he thought was resolved long ago.

“It’s okay,” Carole says, rubbing Blaine’s back comfortingly as he groans in embarrassment. “It’s all right to be nervous. You two didn’t exactly have a lot of time to prepare for this particular life changing event before it happened.”

“It’s just that - as much as I love Kurt, and he loves me – and I know he loves me, I really do - we haven’t had a very good track record,” Blaine says, sitting up and meeting Carole’s eyes. “How do we know it’s going to work this time?”

Carole closes the scrapbook and gives it a satisfied pat. “I’d say you have an excellent track record. Life isn’t just about the easy things. We’ve all learned that the hard way. But look at everything in this book, Blaine. All the anniversaries – of happy things and sad ones. Look at all the challenges the two of you have overcome together. That’s what life is about. Keep on doing that, and loving each other as best as you can, and you’ll both be fine.”

“You really think so?”

“I do.” Carole leans over and pulls Blaine into a hug, then sits back and hands Blaine the scrapbook. “Now go show this to Kurt.”

“He hasn’t seen it?”

“Nope.” An impish grin spreads over Carole’s face. “And Kurt was such a cutie-pie his junior year in high school. He’s going to love looking at his hairstyle from back then, don’t you think?”


	2. Broadway

_November, 2014_

Kurt gazed around the room, taking in the black granite countertops and the high end appliances, all gleaming in the sunlight coming in through the floor to ceiling windows. “You’re joking, right?” He turned to Blaine, who was standing in the doorway, watching Kurt drool over the kitchen.

"This is incredible, as in actually not possible to believe,” Kurt went on. “Have you actually sold your soul to the devil yet, or are we still negotiating?"

"Kitty is not the devil, Kurt," Blaine said, smiling broadly as he took Kurt by the hand and brought him into the living room, turning him by the shoulders so he could see the flat screen television over the fireplace and the luxurious looking leather love seat and armchair. "I told you, Kitty's dad works for a French company and they maintain several apartments in the area for use of their traveling executives."

"In case you hadn't noticed, we are not traveling executives, Blaine," Kurt said, running his hand across the arm of the loveseat. "Oh, that's really soft."

"Apparently no one is using this place right now, and Kitty thought it would be a better wedding present than more his-and-his paperweights. If we want it, it's ours through January when we go back to New York. Unless, of course, you want us to spend the next few months living with your parents, or my mom... Or I could always see if Dave wants a few roommates. I hear the place he got in Findlay is really nice."

"Very funny," Kurt said dryly, peeking around the corner into the bedroom. Blaine followed him as he went inside. Kurt’s eyes widened as he looked at the king sized bed appreciatively and then pushed open the door to the bathroom. "Oh my god, look at this shower! What on earth does a traveling executive need with a double shower with rainforest shower heads and steam?" Kurt turned to Blaine, his hands on his hips. "What kind of company does Kitty's dad work for, anyway?" 

Blaine shrugged. "I'm not sure. International arms sales, maybe?"

Kurt sat down on the bed, running his hands along the richly textured duvet cover. Blaine sat down next to him, bouncing up and down a little.

"Seems like a good bed, right?"

Kurt shot Blaine a pointed look. "Of course it's a good bed. It's a fantastic bed." Kurt scooted up and lay back against the pillows, tugging at Blaine's arm and pulling Blaine along with him. "You realize how much this is going to spoil us, don't you? The places we've been looking at online for when we go back to school are about a tenth the size of this one."

Blaine curled up on his side facing Kurt, and placed a soft kiss on his frowning brow. "All the more reason to enjoy this while we can."

"We won't have an apartment like this again until we're both on Broadway."

"Probably not even then. I mean, I'm not sure how much playing the third teacup from the right is going to pay."

Kurt huffed and poked at Blaine's arm. "You're not going to be the third teacup from the right. If we're talking Disney, you'll be the Beast, for sure."

Blaine laughed. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not." He ran his fingers down Kurt's arm, taking his hand in his own and twining their fingers together. And then he had to put Kurt’s hand to his mouth and kiss his ring, because, of course, it was their wedding ring.

"Of course it's a compliment,” Kurt said softly. “You're a perfect Prince, and you know it."

Blaine wasn't so sure, but he accepted Kurt's reassuring kiss, sighing as they pulled apart. "You really think we'll make it? On Broadway?"

"I do. There's no one more talented than us, and no one who deserves it more." 

"What about Rachel?"

"Rachel doesn't count. She's an alien."

"Oh, she is, is she?"

"Yes. There can be no other explanation." Kurt rolled his eyes, and then caught Blaine's gaze directly. "We've got to believe in ourselves, Blaine. If we don't, no one else will."

Blaine nodded. "I do believe in us. But I think that as long as we're doing work that we love, it isn't going to matter if we're on Broadway or not."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "It won’t matter at all? Not even a little?"

Blaine smiled. "Well, maybe a little. But it isn't the be-all-and-end-all. It's just one possible option."

"You're a very wise man, husband. I'm glad I married you."

Blaine didn't think he would ever get tired of hearing Kurt call him 'husband.' "I'm glad, too." He leaned in and lazily kissed Kurt, relaxing into it as Kurt wrapped his hand around Blaine's waist and pulled them closer.

"Do you think you'll go back to auditioning when we get back to New York?" Blaine asked, leaning back against the ample pillows.

Kurt pressed his lips together. "I'm not sure. I guess it depends on the opportunity. I'd like to actually finish school on time, you know?" A flicker of worry ran across his face, and Kurt rushed to explain himself. "Not that it matters how long it takes, I didn't mean..."

"Kurt, it's okay," Blaine said. "I know I'm a little behind, here. If I take extra courses along the way, I can probably make up for missing this semester. Besides, I don't think Tisch lets students audition for outside shows the first year of the program, so I won't have anything to distract me from classes."

"Except me," Kurt said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Except you," Blaine agreed, leaning in to kiss Kurt again. Although it really wouldn't do to get too worked up in an apartment that wasn't even theirs yet. "I wish I knew more about my class schedule. I should hear from student services soon with some details. Then at least I can think about a part-time job."

"We haven't really talked about this much, have we?" Kurt said, looking thoughtful. "I wonder what being married will do to our financial aid packages?"

"It's got to make it easier to get aid, right? Because they won't count our parents' income anymore?" Blaine glanced at Kurt, who had the same look of impending panic on his face that Blaine felt crawling across his own. 

"I actually have no fucking idea," Kurt said.

They stared at each other in silence, and then, despite the seriousness of the conversation, Blaine startled to laugh. Before long they were both cackling uncontrollably, tears streaming out of their eyes, Kurt curled up in a ball and rocking back and forth on the bed.

When they finally caught their breath, Kurt slid off the bed, straightened his clothes, and held his hand out for Blaine. "Come on, let's go."

Blaine obediently took Kurt's hand and let himself be pulled up into a tight hug. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to drive to McKinley, to figure out how long it will take to get there from here - we'll have to add a little time since it isn't rush hour, but we should be able to get a rough estimate. On the way, you can text Kitty and see if she is free for a thank you lunch." Kurt pulled back and looked at Blaine. "Sushi? She seems like the kind of person who would like sushi."

Blaine nodded. "Drive, text, sushi, check. Anything else?"

"After lunch we go get our laptops from my house and take them to the Lima Bean, where we will sit with very large cups of coffee and research the intricacies of college financial aid until we are the world's premiere experts on the topic as it applies to young, fashionable married couples."

Blaine tweaked Kurt's neckerchief and grinned at him. "Sounds like an excellent plan."

"Agreed."

As they walked out of the apartment, Blaine suddenly stuck out his foot and caught the door before it closed. He dashed back inside, grabbed the keys off the kitchen counter, and then joined Kurt in the hallway. When Kurt saw what he was holding, he smiled fondly at Blaine.

"We might not have a lot of experience at this adulting thing, but I think we're getting better at it."

"Aw, does that mean I can't have whipped cream on my mocha later?" Blaine asked, opening the car door for Kurt before going around to the passenger side and getting in.

"Don't be silly. Adults eat whipped cream, too." Kurt's cheeks colored as he spoke.

Blaine took advantage of the opportunity to up the ante, leaning over and whispering in Kurt's ear as they pulled out of the parking lot. "That's good. Because I think that we'll need to christen our new apartment tonight with some appropriately adult activities."


	3. Competition

_November, 2014_

Blaine came into the choir room, a smile spreading across his face as he saw Kurt at the desk in the adjacent office. Kurt was biting his lip as he glared at his laptop screen, but his face brightened when he saw Blaine.

“Hi! How’s Spencer doing? Good practice?”

Blaine had been working with Spencer on the solo he was preparing for this week’s assignment, staging some rather challenging chorography in the auditorium.

“He’s doing well.” Blaine leaned to give Kurt a quick kiss on the cheek, then flopped down in a chair, letting his messenger bag fall to the floor. “He says he’s never taken any dance lessons, but he’s got great moves. Maybe it has something to do with football?”

“Doubt it,” Kurt said. “Probably he just wants to impress you.” Kurt folded up his laptop and pushed it to the side of the desk.

“Me? Why would you say that?”

“Are you kidding? You fascinate Spencer, or confuse him, or something.”

“I don’t think so,” Blaine said, shaking his head. “Isn’t he with Alistair?”

“Yeah, but do you see the way he looks at you? When you had on your top hat and tails, when we were singing that number from _Arthur_ for Rachel?”

“That was weeks ago,” Blaine said, smiling. “And besides, he wasn’t the one I was hoping to impress that day.”

Kurt blushed. “Okay, fine, maybe I was a little over-sensitive about people looking at you… but I still think Spencer is studying you.”

“Fine. But we had a good rehearsal, and I think he’s ready to sing tomorrow.” Blaine was about to suggest that they head out and grab a coffee before glee practice, but something about the way Kurt’s eyes kept flickering towards his laptop caught his attention. “What were you doing, before, when I came in? You looked busy. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

A worried look flashed across Kurt’s face, which he quickly rearranged into a blank expression. “Oh, nothing much. Just answering emails.”

“What kind of emails?”

Kurt shrugged. “School stuff.”

“Kurt?”

“Hmm?” Kurt opened a desk drawer, closed it, and then opened the next one, not really paying any attention to what he was doing.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Kurt’s head snapped up. “No, it’s nothing important, really.” There were plenty of things they still hadn’t talked about, but not keeping secrets wasn't one of them.

“Then what’s going on? You just got that same look on your face as you did the last time we talked about school.”

Kurt pursed his lips together and let out a long breath. “The email was from Madame Tibideaux, letting me know I’m a finalist for the spring play festival. She’s supporting my application, and she said my recs from the other two professors were very strong. I just have to send in a more detailed summary of my vision for the play by Friday.”

“Kurt, that’s awesome!”

Kurt nodded. “It is. If I win, I get to direct a play on NYADA’s main stage next semester.”

Blaine jumped out of his chair and went around the desk, pulling Kurt up to give him a hug. “Congratulations. I’m so proud of you!” He stepped back, keeping his hands on Kurt’s arms. “But why the worried look? Do you need help with the next submission?”

Kurt shook his head. “It’s not that… although if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind you giving it a read. It’s just… I feel so weird, every time something about school comes up. I mean, here I am with all this good stuff happening, heading into the second half of my junior year, all of these opportunities being presented to me… while Tibideaux cut you from the program without even giving you a chance.”

“Kurt.” Blaine took Kurt’s hands in his, and tilted his head until he caught Kurt’s gaze. “What happened to me isn’t your fault. And your successes don’t upset me. You deserve them.”

Kurt pulled away, pacing the small room. “That’s nice of you to say, but still, it feels weird. Wrong.”

Blaine sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I know. It feels wrong to me, too, what they did. But I’m excited about Tisch. I think it’s a good fit for me. And it doesn’t do any good to dwell on how things ended at NYADA.” He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to come up with the right words to express how he was feeling. “Remember when you told me it shouldn’t be a competition, between us? That we should be running the race together?”

Kurt looked up, his eyes wide. “Yes.”

“I think that was good advice. That’s what we should do.”

Kurt nodded, coming closer to Blaine and lacing his arms over his shoulders. “I actually gave you good advice?” The smile on his face broadened. “I may need to have you write that down somewhere.”

“Anywhere you want, husband.” Blaine grinned as Kurt kissed the corner of his mouth, then worked his way over to his jaw, dragging his tongue over his stubbly skin. Blaine was just about to suggest relocating to a more private venue when the noise of a clearing throat made them both jump.

“Um, well, sorry, um, we can come back?” Spencer stuttered out from where he was frozen in the doorway. Alistair stood just behind him, looking like he was about to flee.

Blaine buried his face in Kurt’s shoulder as Kurt patted him on the back, chuckling under his breath. 

“No, no, it’s fine. Were you looking for me or Blaine?”

Spencer frowned, and Alistair fidgeted. Blaine straightened his shoulders and shot a quick look at Kurt. “Any chance this is the kind of conversation that might go over better at the Lima Bean after school?”

****  
Later that day, after Spencer and Alistair had left the Lima Bean and Kurt and Blaine had gotten refills on their coffees, Kurt asked Blaine how he had known that the reason the boys were coming to them for advice was more personal than academic. Blaine had just shrugged, saying it was a hunch. But he was glad they had felt comfortable coming to them, and he hoped their conversation had helped. Confident as both of these students were, it was still hard being a gay kid in Ohio, and it was hard being in a relationship no matter where you were. And if their experience – imperfect as it had been - could help other people besides Blaine and Kurt, well, he was happy to share it.


	4. Day

_November, 2014_

Kurt pulled his ear buds out of his ears and unfolded his legs, stretching. He’d been holed up in the bedroom of their new apartment for the past hour or so, working on a New Directions lesson plan for the next week, but he was ready to take a break. From what he could hear of the guitar coming from their living room, Blaine had already moved into break mode.

“It’s been a long day without you my friend. And I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again.”

Blaine’s voice was sad, and despite the fact that the song called for a melancholy tone, it still pulled at Kurt’s heart to hear Blaine sounding that way. 

“Hey there.” Kurt came out into the living room and sat down next to Blaine on the sofa. The dark leather was soft to the touch, and Pam had given them a cozy dark red throw blanket to accent it. Blaine looked like he had been dressed to match for a photo shoot, the deep browns of his cowl neck sweater and his maroon pants rendering the scene quite a pretty picture.

Except for the look on his face.

“Why so glum?” Kurt asked, laying his hand gently on Blaine’s thigh. 

Blaine twisted to set his guitar down on the floor, then turned back to Kurt. “My dad called.”

Since William and Pam had separated for good a few months ago, Blaine’s dad hadn’t been around much. Although they had seen him for dinner once right after the wedding, it hadn’t been a very comfortable evening.

“Oh? Any interesting news?”

Blaine sighed. “You could call it that.” Blaine clasped his hands together in his lap and looked down. “He’s moving to L.A. His old firm is having him open up their new office there.”

From Blaine’s expression he clearly wasn’t happy about this, but they had known William was interested in leaving town, especially if a promising job opportunity presented itself. There had to be more to the story.

“L.A. is pretty far away,” Kurt said, trying to keep Blaine talking.

“Mmm. And… he’s leaving tomorrow.”

That was it, then. That’s what had Blaine so disappointed. “So, no day after Thanksgiving leftovers party at your dad’s place, I suppose?”

Blaine shook his head. “Nope. And he won’t be back for Christmas, either. Neither will Cooper – he’s going to hang out with Dad there.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Kurt wrapped an arm around Blaine and pulled him against his chest. Blaine snuggled closer, and they both shifted until they were lying down on the couch, Blaine’s head tucked into Kurt’s neck. 

After a few minutes Blaine raised his head up and looked at Kurt. “I guess we should probably get dinner ready?”

Kurt considered this for a minute, then shook his head. “Nah. I say we stay here for a while.”

A smile pulled at the corner of Blaine’s mouth, not quite making it, but trying nonetheless. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Blaine lay back down, pulling the soft throw blanket over them both and sliding a knee over Kurt’s thigh as he curled up against him. Kurt slid his fingers into Blaine’s hair, pushing through the gel until he could rub at his scalp. Blaine hummed happily in response as he nuzzled into Kurt’s neck and traced a line across Kurt’s collarbone with his finger. Kurt dozed off for a little while, and when he came to again, Blaine was looking at him fondly, his hazel eyes wide in the dim light of the fading afternoon.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day,” Kurt said softly.

Blaine smiled and shook his head. “I didn’t have a bad day.” His smile grew broader, and his eyes crinkled adorably as he pushed a stray lock of hair off Kurt’s forehead. “How could I have a bad day when I have you?”

Kurt’s heart swelled, and he once again thanked his lucky stars or whatever was out there that somehow, he and Blaine had managed to fix what they had broken and come back together again. “You’re ridiculous, husband,” he said, his words barely slipping out in time before he pressed his lips to Blaine’s. “And I love you like crazy.”

“ _You’re_ ridiculous,” Blaine mumbled as he began to trail kisses along the side of Kurt’s neck. “And I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Blaine sings is “See You Again” by Wiz Khalifa feat. Charlie Puth. I honestly can't quite figure it out, but it's beautiful and it always gives me sad Klaine feels.


	5. Escape

_Thanksgiving, 2014_

“Promise you won’t look,” Blaine says, shooting a quick glance at Kurt as he pauses in front of their dresser, hands on his belt buckle.

“Blaine, don’t be ridiculous,” Kurt replies, instantly regretting his choice of words. But it’s Thanksgiving, and it’s not his fault Blaine ate too much. He’s pretty well stuffed himself.

“Honestly, I just don’t know how it happens. I look pregnant.” Blaine has shucked his pants and shirt and is staring down at his belly, one hand gently cradling it as if there really was a baby inside.

“I’m guessing the three servings of sweet potatoes had something to do with it.”

“Mmm, Kurt, they were so good! Carole puts maple syrup in them, doesn’t she?”

“She does.” Kurt comes up behind Blaine and wraps his arms around him, one hand sliding down to Blaine’s slightly protruding belly. “Hello, little sweet potato,” he says in a sing-song voice.

“Kurt,” Blaine says sternly. “We don’t need any more food names for our future children.”

“What, are you really that fond of Feta?”

“I think it’s cute.”

“I think you’re cute,” Kurt responds, turning Blaine to face him and planting a firm kiss on his lips. 

“How are you still dressed?” Blaine asks, his hands moving to unbutton Kurt’s vest. “It’s because you wore these pants, isn’t it?”

“Hm?” Kurt is distracted by the muscles in Blaine’s arms. His almost-naked husband distracts him very easily, truth be told.

“These are your ‘going-out-to-eat’ pants. They’re clearly stretchier than your other ones. You wear them whenever you want to indulge.”

Kurt looks down at his slacks, trim dark gray with a subtle stripe. It’s true, their waistband may be just a tad more forgiving than some of his skinny jeans. “Maybe. But I’m not the one who ate three helpings of sweet potatoes.”

“Don’t think I didn’t see you going after that pie.”

“I only had one slice of pumpkin. And a taste of the apple.”

“And a huge piece of banana cream.”

“Your mom made that one – it wouldn’t have been polite not to eat it!” Kurt sighs as he starts unbuttoning his pants. Forgiving or not, it feels good to take them off. “Who makes banana cream pie for Thanksgiving, anyway?”

Blaine shrugs, taking Kurt’s pants from him and hanging them in the closet next to his own. They had thought about implementing an organized clothes sorting system when they moved in to their temporary apartment, but the closet was so ridiculously big that there really wasn’t any need to stress over it. Besides, they were only going to be there for another month and a half. 

“It’s kind of a random thing, but she’s been doing it long enough that it’s kind of a tradition.”

“Did you even have any yourself?”

“No, I was too full,” Blaine admits. “But it doesn’t matter.”

“No? But you said you love it.”

“My mom made two pies. The other one is on the counter in the kitchen.” Blaine turns to Kurt, a small smile pulling at the edge of his mouth.

“In our kitchen?” Our lovely, granite-covered, enjoy it while we have it kitchen?

“Yup. Brought it home with the other leftovers Carole packed up.”

The amount of food Carole sent them home with is enough to feed them for a week. If they were nuts enough to eat nothing but turkey, stuffing, and potatoes for a week. “We have a whole banana cream pie in our kitchen? Blaine, what the hell are we going to do with that?”

“Kurt,” Blaine says, his voice low. “Have you really no idea?” Blaine steps closer to Kurt, who is now stripped down to his tight black briefs, which suddenly grow just a tad tighter. 

“Oh my god, that’s why you wanted to come home right after dinner, isn’t it?” Kurt says, letting his eyes drift closed for a moment as Blaine run his hands over his shoulders and down to his waist.

“I’m sorry, would you rather have stayed and watched football with your dad?” Blaine cups Kurt’s cheek and holds his gaze, waiting for an answer.

“Um, no, nope, definitely not,” Kurt replies, moving until the backs of his knees hit the bed. Blaine follows him, his broad chest not quite touching Kurt’s, his breath warm on his face. The fact that they have their own apartment to retreat to, away from the family that they love so much, is something Kurt very much appreciates at this moment. Kurt slides his hands around Blaine’s arms, then down his back, resting them just above the curve of his ass. Kurt’s hands fit there just right. They always have.

Blaine leans in and trails a lingering kiss under Kurt’s jaw, then pulls away, taking Kurt’s hand. “Come on, husband, let’s go have some banana cream pie.” Blaine’s trying to keep a straight face, and he’s succeeding for the most part, but Kurt’s frankly still not sure if this activity is going to involve sexytimes or slapstick. He’s pretty sure there will be sex, with the way Blaine’s hips are swinging loosely as they head out to the kitchen. But that could also mean a duet. Whatever happens, he’s on board. Best Thanksgiving night ever.


	6. Fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt and Blaine are reminded that homophobia hasn't quite gone the way of the dinosaurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: discussion of homophobia

_December, 2014_

“Do you have any idea why Sue summoned us?” Blaine asked as he and Kurt met up in front of the principal’s office at McKinley.

“Nope. But it can’t be good.” Despite all that Sue Sylvester had done for the two of them, Kurt still couldn’t help but worry that a call to her office didn’t bode well.

“Kurt, Blaine, thank you for coming to see me,” Sue said, indicating that they should sit down in the chairs in front of her desk, although she remained standing. 

“She used our real names,” Blaine said in a whisper as he took a seat. “I think we’re in trouble.”

“You’re not in trouble, Husband #2,” Sue said, “and my hearing is not as bad as you kids apparently think. But there is something we need to talk about.”

“Fine, Sue. Spit it out.” Kurt wasn’t in the mood for Sue’s games this morning. Or any morning, for that matter.

“I’ve had a complaint from the parents of Kristin Martin.”

“Kristin?” Blaine turned to Kurt. “Isn’t she one of the kids in your Broadway club?” 

“She is,” Kurt confirmed. Kurt had started an afterschool club for budding Broadway aficionados, which had attracted a group of freshman girls for whom _Les Miserables_ was still the epitome of their Broadway experience. Kurt was working on expanding their horizons. They seemed to be catching on to Sondheim, at least when he sang it to them. 

“What was the complaint about?” Blaine asked.

Kurt glanced over at him. Blaine looked calm enough, shoulders relaxed, face determinedly neutral, but Kurt could tell from the way he had his hands clasped together that he was concerned. He wasn’t sure why – the club was Kurt’s project. He had plans for both Blaine and Rachel to come sing (he wanted Blaine to sing something from _West Side Story,_ and Rachel could talk to them about _Funny Girl,_ of course), but that hadn’t even been set up yet. “Sue, it’s just a club. It doesn’t even cost anything. We just talk and sing and watch you tube videos from Broadway shows. What’s the big deal?”

“This isn’t about your club, Porcelain,” Sue said. “At least not strictly speaking.” She sighed, and leaned her hip against the side of her desk. “By any chance, did you see Kristin outside of school last Friday night?” 

“Yeah, she brought us some cookies,” Blaine replied, nonplussed. But Kurt’s heart began to pound in his chest as he remembered that night, Kristin and two of her friends from the club showing up at his door (his parents’ door), Burt blustering a little bit at them just for fun, Carole inviting them all in for hot chocolate. He and Blaine had been sacked out on the couch watching a movie, dressed down and cozy. Kurt remembers introducing the girls to his husband, and Blaine shaking their hands and chatting easily with the three of them about their classes and their favorite Broadway actors. Blaine teased him afterwards about his fan club, but Kurt couldn’t help but notice that the girls hadn’t seemed as happy when they left as when they arrived.

“Sue, stop beating around the bush. What’s the complaint?”

Sue sighed again, picking up one of the many trophies that sat on her desk and twirling it in her hands. “Apparently Kristin witnessed some _homosexual_ behavior, and her parents don’t believe that is appropriate for a public school teacher.”

If Kurt’s heart had sped up before, now it was racing like an Olympic sprinter.

“What does that even mean?” Blaine said, his voice rising as he stood up. “She witnessed us existing, as homosexuals? That’s not a crime.”

“We were in our own house,” Kurt said softly. “My dad’s house. She came to me – I don’t even know how she got the address. I didn’t even invite her.”

“And it’s not like we were _doing_ anything. Ask Burt – ask Carole – they were there too,” Blaine was almost shouting, his face turning red. 

“We probably held hands,” Kurt said tightly, looking at Blaine for confirmation. “I may have kissed you on the cheek, when we talked about our wedding.”

“You do that all the time,” Blaine said, sitting back down next to Kurt and taking his hands. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” The anger seemed to drain out of him as he touched Kurt, but the pain in his eyes was clear. 

“No, there’s nothing wrong with any of this,” Sue said firmly, drawing their attention back to her. “And I shut it down. But I had to tell you.”

“You shut down the club?” Kurt asked. “That’s not fair, you can’t-”

“No, I shut down the complaint, not the club. They have no right policing your behavior in your own home, even if there was any behavior to object to. But at school-”

“I’ve seen Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury kissing at school,” Blaine interjected. “Why aren’t they getting called on it?”

“They have been, believe me,” Sue said, grimacing. “No one likes to see that.” She moved behind her desk and sat down. “I’m not insensitive to the fact that the two of you are going to be seen differently than a heterosexual couple, and that isn’t right. But this is a public school, and we do have to be aware that not everyone is as enlightened as we are.”

Enlightened? Kurt thought. Not exactly the word he’d use for Sue. “So what’s the take-away here? I’m not changing who I am for some small-minded bigot. You should know that by now.”

“Kurt, Kurt, Kurt. Your naïveté never ceases to amaze me. I’m not asking you to change who you are, I’m just letting you know that there are students in this school whose parents are wary of gays teaching their kids. This doesn’t make McKinley particularly unusual, by the way – I’m sure even in your picture perfect great big city there are still people who aren’t particularly enamored of the idea.”

Kurt went through the rest of the day in a daze. Blaine seemed to recover quickly enough, although Kurt caught him gazing sadly at him when they ran through a duet for the Glee club, and Kurt knew he was wondering if their flirty behavior there was disapproved of by someone too. But Kurt couldn’t stop thinking about Kristin and her friends. Was she upset about Kurt being gay? Did he disgust her? Or did she just make a comment about it to her parents and they were the ones who were upset?

By the time he and Blaine got back to their apartment, all he wanted to do was stop thinking about it, maybe indulge in some pasta and surf the web until he fell asleep. But Blaine had apparently been tamping down his anger all day, and wanted to vent. After a little while of Kurt ignoring his rant Blaine seemed to catch on to Kurt’s mood, and excused himself to the bathroom. When over an hour had gone by with no sound from Blaine but the noise of the shower, Kurt realized that putting his head in the sand wasn’t going to solve the problem with Kristin, and certainly wasn’t going to work for him and Blaine.

He knocked on the bathroom door, relieved when Blaine answered and told him to come in. Blaine was sitting on the closed toilet seat, dressed only in plaid pajama pants, his wet curls dripping down onto his slumped shoulders.

“I’m sorry I tuned you out,” Kurt said, biting the bullet and getting right to the point. “I should have said something.”

Blaine nodded. “It’s okay. I got the picture.”

“Yeah, but…” Kurt could have handled it better.

Blaine shrugged. “It’s not like there’s much we can do.”

“You don’t believe that though, do you?” Kurt leaned against the sink, facing Blaine where he sat on the toilet. “You think we should do something. Try again to get a gay/straight alliance going, or a PFLAG chapter, something to educate students and families.”

A little smile pulled at Blaine’s lips. “You _were_ listening to me.”

“You were loud, I couldn’t help it.” Kurt took Blaine’s hand and tugged him upright, pleased to see his smile grow stronger. “Come on, come sit at the table. I made spaghetti with clam sauce. And garlic bread.”

“Carbs always make you feel better,” Blaine said agreeably, grabbing a sweatshirt from the bedroom and then following Kurt out to the kitchen. They ate in silence for a few minutes, and then Blaine looked up at Kurt, clearly ready to return to the matter at hand. “So, what do you think?”

“About your idea? I like it.”

“You do?” Kurt felt a little badly about how surprised Blaine looked.

“I do. I think we should talk to Mr. Schue about it, and then Sue. I’m sure Rachel and Sam would help out.”

“I bet Spencer and Alistair would join,” Blaine suggested. “It would be good for them.”

“Especially if we convinced Alistair first. Then Spencer wouldn’t be able to say no.” Kurt sighed. “But I just wish I could talk to Kristin about what happened. Find out what she’s thinking.”

“I think you just need to wait and see on that one,” Blaine said. “She might well come to you, maybe even before the next club meeting.”

“Or she might never speak to me again.”

“I really doubt that. Did you see the way her eyes light up when she looks at you? She thinks you’re better than Aaron Tveit.”

Kurt laughed. “Please don’t mention that name in front of them, Blaine, you’ll never get them to focus on anything else.”

“He is pretty dreamy,” Blaine teased. 

“Now you’re just asking for trouble,” Kurt said, grinning. They finished eating and cleared the dishes, brainstorming ways to sell the idea to Sue and get students interested.

“Thanks for helping me with this,” Kurt said later that night, when they were curled up on the couch together, lazily looking through their recorded shows to find something to watch.

“It affects me too,” Blaine said. “And it’s not as I didn’t have my own experience with a parent not really understanding ‘the gay thing.’”

“But your dad came around.”

“He did. But it took a while.”

“Do you think a GSA would have helped him?”

Blaine huffed out a laugh. “Dalton had one, and they had several events for families. He never went.”

“Oh.” Kurt shuffled them on the sofa, pulling Blaine to sit with his back against Kurt’s chest, and wrapping his arms around him. “You still think it’s worth it to try at McKinley?”

Blaine nodded, twisting to look at Kurt. “A lot has changed since I was fourteen, even in Lima. And even with the way things were… it helped me, and maybe it made it easier for my friends to get what I was going through. And maybe some of them talked to their parents because of it, and talked to their friends who weren’t willing to come to a meeting…”

“So it could help Kristin, even if she doesn’t come.”

“It’ll help everyone it touches. Hopefully.”

Kurt sighed and pulled Blaine against him, burying his face in his curls. “I can’t believe this all started with cookies.”

“Moral of the story – don’t accept cookies from cute strangers.”

“How about don’t accept cookies from strangers with homophobic parents?” Kurt suggested.

“But how would you know? You would miss out on so many cookies, having to reject everyone you think might possibly be problematic.”

“Are you trying to tell me to be more tolerant, or are we still talking about cookies?” Kurt asked, taking Blaine’s hands in his. 

Blaine laughed and squirmed against Kurt, leaning back and twisting until he could press a kiss to his husband’s lips. “We can keep talking about cookies if you want, or we could move on to other topics.”

“Mmm,” Kurt said, stretching so that Blaine could continue trailing kisses up his neck. “Do these other topics include getting naked?”

“That’s one of my favorite topics,” Blaine murmured, turning over completely so that his legs slotted between Kurt’s, leaning on his elbows as he continued kissing up to the shell of his ear. 

“Are all our serious conversations – ooh, fuck, Blaine, every time – going to end this way?” Kurt asked, his whole body tingling as Blaine nipped the skin under his ear.

“Pretty sure all our conversations end this way whether they are serious or not.”

“We rock at communication, husband,” Kurt said. “For example, I have no problem whatsoever telling you that we should continue this conversation in bed immediately.”

Blaine sat up and grinned, his hair crazy from the way Kurt had been grabbing at it. “And I have no problem agreeing with you one hundred percent.”

Much later that night, after several rounds of extremely satisfying sex, during which they continued to “communicate” like pros (“right there” being one of the most commonly heard revelations), Blaine curled up against Kurt’s chest and whispered “we’re doing all right, right?” Ever since the wedding Blaine had been asking Kurt this in various forms every few days, and it pulled at Kurt’s heart each time. But today he thought they had weathered a very stressful situation relatively well, even if there had been a bit of a blip in the middle of it. And they were getting better, he knew they were.

“We are. We’re good.” Kurt pressed a kiss to the top of Blaine’s head, and held his husband tight against him as they drifted off to sleep.


	7. Guide

_December, 2014_

Blaine blinked his eyes open enough to confirm that yes, he had plenty of time before the alarm went off, and rolled over to snuggle back up against Kurt, who was still fast asleep. He tried to still his mind, but thoughts about the coming day kept him awake.

Today he was meeting with Kitty after school to talk with her about her college applications. Why Kitty had decided that Blaine would be a better source of guidance than the pricey college counselor her parents had hired Blaine wasn't sure, but he didn’t feel like he could say no when she asked for help. He had been initially concerned because it was probably too late to send audition tapes in to many music and theater programs, but then it turned out that Kitty didn't want to go into music or theater. This left Blaine even more confused about why Kitty wanted his help, but he supposed he would learn more soon enough. That is, if he could get through the day without driving himself nuts wondering about it.

He blinked his eyes open again. He clearly wasn't falling back to sleep anytime soon, and looking at his gorgeous husband was as good a way as any to pass the time. Definitely better than stressing about Kitty.

Kurt smacked his lips together and mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep, and Blaine couldn't help smiling. They hadn't been back together long enough to develop any new routines, but already things were noticeably different than when they had lived together in Bushwick. Especially towards the end of their time together in the loft, Kurt had often woken up first and headed out to the kitchen to make coffee, or sit on the couch surfing the web. He had claimed it was so he wouldn't disturb Blaine's sleep, but it always left Blaine feeling hurt, like Kurt didn't want to cuddle.

Now Kurt seemed more relaxed, more willing to share space with Blaine, and it was wonderful. Most days they both slept until their alarm went off, curled up together or sprawled over the bed, but happy to be in the same place. 

Since Lima was about a half hour away from their temporary apartment, they liked to drive in together, although they didn't do this every day, depending on their plans. But the things they did separately felt so much more natural - Kurt spending time with his dad, Blaine having a movie night with Sam - instead of a passive-aggressive maneuver aimed at avoiding conflict. They had even talked about it, miracle of miracles. 

Blaine knew the honeymoon wouldn't last forever, that sooner or later they would drift back into a more realistic relationship again. But he thought they were making progress, trying to avoid past mistakes, being more open with each other. And every time they made it through another difficult conversation Kurt got this quietly proud look on his face, pulling Blaine close and kissing him so sweetly. It made Blaine so happy he could hardly speak, sometimes, full of love for his husband.

Blaine twisted his head to see the clock again. Still too early, but he really needed a trip to the bathroom. He moved to disentangle himself from Kurt, but a hand pawed sleepily at his arm.

"No, stay," Kurt breathed out, his eyes slowly coming open. "Blaine?"

"Yeah, honey, I'm here." It was adorable how confused Kurt looked, his brow furrowed and his cheek creased by the pillow. 

"Don't go," Kurt said, his voice rough with sleep.

"I just need to use the bathroom.” Blaine gave Kurt a quick peck on his cheek. “I'll be right back."

True to his word, it was only a minute or two before Blaine was sliding back under their fluffy comforter, Kurt reaching out for him and pressing his head against his chest. As much as Blaine appreciated the gesture, something seemed a little off in the way Kurt was clinging to him. "You okay?" he asked softly, threading his fingers through Kurt’s sleep mussed hair.

"Bad dream," Kurt mumbled against the collar of Blaine’s t-shirt. 

Blaine waited for the expected "don't want to talk about it," but it didn't come, so he pressed on. "What was it about?" he asked gently.

Kurt propped himself up on an elbow so he could see Blaine. "You." Even in the dim light from the street outside, Blaine could see tears glistening in Kurt’s eyes.

"Tell me more?" Blaine tried not to feel nervous.

"I keep having it," Kurt sighed, rubbing at his face. "I thought it would go away after we got back together.”

Oh. It was that kind of dream. Blaine had those, too. “What happens in it?”

“It's not very complicated, really. It's me trying to talk to you, trying to tell you how I feel, and you not hearing me, just walking away."

"Kurt..." Blaine could only imagine how that would hurt him. "I would never do that."

"I know you wouldn't literally do that, but... I was so scared that you'd never really hear me, you know? I came back to Lima, thinking all I had to do was say the word and we'd be back together, but it wasn't that simple."

Blaine wanted to apologize, but he restrained himself. He hadn't done anything wrong by not immediately jumping back into Kurt’s arms, and he knew Kurt didn’t think so, either. "No, it wasn't that simple.” He debated whether to say anything further, but Kurt had actually told him his dream, so he thought it was only fair. “I have a bad dream about us, too, sometimes.”

Kurt sucked in a breath, and his face immediately reflected the same concern Blaine was feeling. “You do?”

Blaine nodded. “It’s usually us talking at dinner, and you saying ‘maybe I don’t.’” Blaine was pretty sure that he would never stop regretting asking Kurt if he still wanted to marry him, and forcing that answer in return. “In the dream I always think I shouldn’t ask you if you really want to marry me, like I know it’s going to tear us apart, but then I do. And then all I can hear is your answer, and the rain falling against that plastic sheeting they put up around the tables at that restaurant. And then there’s just nothing.” Nothing except the feeling of his life falling to pieces.

“How often do you have your dream?”

Blaine shrugged. “Not that often anymore, I think.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you avoiding answering the question?”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t matter. It’s just a dream. I know you want to marry me, now.”

Kurt fumbled under the blanket until he found Blaine’s hand, the one with the wedding ring on it, and held it tight. “I do. I’m so glad we’re married.”

“Me too.” Blaine bit his lip. “I don’t like that you’re having bad dreams. But I think it’s normal to be a little worried.”

“You do?”

“It hasn’t been that long since we got back together. Everything happened really fast.”

“It did. And I don’t regret it, not for a minute.” Kurt sighed. “I could just do without the dreams. It hurts so much, thinking about where we were a few months ago. I mean, I thought you would give me another chance, or at least, I hoped you would. Then you came to Mr. Schue’s dinner party without Dave, and the party at Rachel’s, and you kissed me, but you didn’t say anything…”

“And you still went out with Walter.”

Kurt huffed out a laugh. “I’m not sure I’ll ever really understand that. My dad sure won’t.”

“It was complicated. But we're past that now." Blaine ran a finger along Kurt's cheek, trying to coax a smile out of him. "We're okay now, husband. I hear you. And I love you."

Kurt did smile then, soft and open. "I know we're okay. But sometimes I forget."

Blaine shot one more look at the alarm clock. Still ridiculously early. But this could be a good thing. "Well, how about we both go get in the shower and I remind you?"

Kurt's smile broadened into a grin. "Husband, you have the very best ideas."


	8. Hope

_December, 2014_

Mason and Madison’s holiday party was in full swing, music blaring and colored lights flashing. Kurt moved off to the edge of the room to find a quiet spot to catch his breath. All in all, he was pretty proud of how their little group was doing – not so little, anymore, with the addition of the Warblers. They were still getting used to each other, sure, but there was a lot less of “them” and “us” these days. In fact, “bonding” had been the official reason the twins had suggested the party, and everyone had jumped at the chance to start December off right, happy to begin the festivities that, if the kids had their way, would last straight through until New Year’s.

Kurt looked around the room, realizing that most of the Warblers had left their uniforms at home, and were dressed in variations of preppy casual wear. His mind immediately flew back to that infamous trainwreck of a party at Rachel’s house his junior year, Blaine in that delicious dark red sweater, his hair free from the gel, looking absolutely edible. It had been almost too much for his poor yearning heart to take that night, still locked in the friend zone while Blaine danced like a fool and kissed Rachel Berry.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Rachel appeared next to him, handing him something decidedly less pink than her usual favorite. “Try this,” she said. “Banana and blueberry juice. It’s yummy.” Kurt obediently took a small sip of the smoothie and grimaced.

“Is there really only fruit in there?” he asked.

Rachel shrugged. “There’s no alcohol, that’s all I know. I was very clear about that with Spencer.”

It was one thing to have a party with underage students, but quite another to let them drink, as Mr. Schue had reminded them when he caught wind of the event. The cocktail Kurt held in his hand suggested that not everyone was on board with this plan, however. He sighed and carefully set the concoction down on a conveniently placed table. 

“Kurt?” Rachel scooted closer to him, touching his shoulder. “I’ve been meaning to ask you.” She looked up at him, her face serious. “How is everything going, really, with you and Blaine? I mean, at our last party, you two were…”

She trailed off, and Kurt almost laughed. At the last party, he and Blaine sang a flirty duet, which had been engineered rather obviously by himself, they reminisced about their very first equally flirty duet back at Dalton, and then Blaine kissed him. While they weren’t together, there had definitely been _something_ going on. But Kurt supposed Rachel’s question was fair. She wasn’t the only one caught by surprise by the speed of their reconciliation.

Kurt looked out at the dance floor where Blaine was currently spinning Jane in what looked like a full-on 50’s style jig. Blaine was wearing the dark red velvet blazer that Kurt loved, paired with a super-tight pair of jeans and new chestnut colored oxford shoes – his previous favorite pair somehow lost in one of his many recent moves. His hair was gelled down, as always, but curling a bit at the sides. Blaine gave a little bow to his partner as one of the Warblers moved to cut in, Kitty taking Jane’s place and the two of them launching into what seemed to be a familiar dance routine.

“Well, I guess that answers my question,” Rachel said, pulling Kurt out of his daze.

“What?”

Rachel smiled as she took Kurt’s arm and leaned against him. “You seem to be rather enamored of your cutie over there.”

“I should hope so,” Kurt said, keeping it light. “He’s my husband.”

“And you guys are truly okay? Even after all that heartbreak?”

“Yes, I really think we are.”

“He’s still really the love of your life?”

Kurt turned to catch Rachel’s eye. “He is,” he said firmly. “What’s with the interrogation?”

She shook her head and looked away. “I’m sorry. I’m just being silly. I think the holidays are making it worse.”

Suddenly Kurt knew why Rachel looked so melancholy under her sparkly eye makeup. “I miss him too,” he said softly, putting his arm around her and pulling her close. “He would have loved this party.”

“Especially the peanut butter Santa cookies,” Rachel said, sniffling a little bit.

“Especially those.” Peanut butter cookies were one of Finn’s favorites.

“I just… I want what you and Blaine have, someday. But I don’t know if it will ever happen now.”

“Not Sam?” Sam couldn’t make it to the party tonight, and Kurt thought that probably had something to do with Rachel’s mood. Even if he wasn’t her one true love, he did make her smile. 

Rachel sighed. “You and I – and Sam – all know he isn’t the one.”

“Do you wish he was?”

She shook her head. “No, not really. I don’t think I’m ready, honestly. I hope I will be, eventually. But if the most perfect man in the world walked up to me right now, I’d probably just tell myself it was too soon.”

Blaine chose that moment to join them, wrapping his arm around Kurt and planting a slightly sweaty kiss on his lips. “What’s this about the most perfect man in the world?” he asked, his eyes shining brightly as he gazed at Kurt.

“We were just talking about you, husband,” Kurt said, smiling helplessly at Blaine. 

Blaine grinned and kissed Kurt again, wrapping one arm around his shoulder and stroking his cheek with his other hand. “Cheesy bastard.”

“You started it.”

“And now _I’m_ going to end it,” Rachel announced, grabbing Blaine’s hand to get his attention. “Take your sappy little self over to the karaoke machine and pick out a duet for us to sing. You two clearly can’t be left alone together.”

“Just a minute,” Kurt said, taking Rachel’s free hand in his. “I’ll let you sing with my duet partner in a second if you insist. But I have a better idea.” He exchanged a quick look with Blaine, then gave Rachel’s hand a squeeze. “I propose a trio.”

Rachel looked back and forth between the two of them, and then they were all crowding together, wrapped in a tight embrace, Rachel’s head smushed between Kurt and Blaine’s. “I love you guys,” Rachel said. 

“We love you too,” Kurt replied. “And I hate to quote that unfortunate show, but we’re all in this together.” Rachel nodded against Kurt’s chest. Kurt felt Blaine’s hand grasp his where it rested on Rachel’s shoulder, and he looked up to find his husband nodding along with Rachel, his eyes wide and soft. 

Rachel sucked in a deep breath and stepped back, wiping her face and squaring her shoulders. “So. Song choices? Streisand or Sondheim?”

“Aww, no Disney?” Blaine said, a smile pulling at the edge of his mouth. “Because I was thinking-” he leaned over and sang to Rachel, a hand over his heart and his eyelashes fluttering, “someday my prince will come?”

“A little on the nose, don’t you think?” Kurt muttered, but Rachel’s eyes lit up.

“A Disney medley!” Rachel grabbed them both and led the way to the karaoke book. “I’m sure there’s one in here. I’ve always thought I would be the perfect voice actress for a Disney princess.”

Kurt watched Blaine and Rachel work their magic as they crafted what was sure to be a showstopping performance, and felt himself fairly floating with the joy of it. Kurt was finally back together with the man who made his heart sing, and while Rachel might not be ready yet for her perfect partner, he knew someday love would come along again for her, too. Soon the three of them would all be back in New York, chasing their dreams, and hopefully keeping in mind what was most important along the way. If the past few months had taught him nothing else, it was that he should have listened harder when his dad told him years ago to keep the people you love close. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

And in the meantime, as Rachel didn’t hesitate to let him know…

“Kurt! Blaine! Our audience awaits!”


	9. Indecent

_December, 2014_

It was an unseasonably warm winter afternoon, and Blaine and Kurt had finally given in to Pam’s not-so-subtle pleas for them to put up the Christmas lights on her house. They were going for a classic pattern outline in white lights, and although it was hard to tell yet given that it was still daytime, Kurt thought it was going to look rather lovely.

They had finished putting the lights on the three pine trees in the front yard, and had moved on to the front of the house. Kurt was up on the ladder with Blaine on the ground below him, untwisting the string of lights and passing it up. Or at least, that’s what Blaine was supposed to be doing.

“Blaine? Still down there?”

Blaine looked up, shaking his head. “What? Oh, sorry, here you go.” Blaine found the next string of lights in the green plastic tub and held the end out to Kurt.

“Do you want to do the lamppost next? I thought we might use the colored lights there. Does your mom have a preference?” Kurt looked down, only to find Blaine blinking back at him. 

“Um, yeah, that sounds good. She likes red lights.”

“I didn’t say red, I said colored. The multi-colored ones. You’ve got four brand new packages, they’ll be easy to string up.” Maybe Blaine was bored with this activity. It wasn’t the most exciting thing, but Kurt liked creating a beautiful image. If Christmas lights was his medium, and Blaine’s house his canvas, so be it.

“Sure, yeah, colored ones are good too.”

Kurt attached a few more lights, then looked down at Blaine, who seemed to be fidgeting with the bottom of his vest. It wasn’t cold enough for a coat – Kurt didn’t have one on at all, just a thin sweater tucked into his jeans – but Blaine had decided his old forest green down vest looked festive, and it did, paired with Blaine’s favorite dark red pants and a striped shirt.

“Blaine, you want a turn on the ladder?” Maybe that would entertain him more.

Blaine looked up. “Yeah, good idea.” They switched places, Blaine holding the ladder as Kurt came down, and then holding it for Blaine as he climbed up to Kurt’s former position. Kurt squatted by the plastic tub of lights, straightening out the next string, and then rose to his feet, looking up as he went.

_Oh,_ he thought, as he was met by a perfect view of the bottom of Blaine’s ass, splendid and round and right in front of his face. Blaine caught his eye and blushed straight up to his hairline, shifting on the ladder to try to present a more civilized angle – of course, this just brought the front of his body in line with Kurt’s vision, and led to an even more indecent sight.

“I think I see the challenge here,” Kurt said, as a grin spread across his face. His blood felt like it was tingling in his veins, and it wasn’t because of the cold. Blaine just smiled sheepishly. “Your mom’s not coming home until late, right?”

Blaine’s eyes lit up. “Maybe it’s time to take a break?”

“My thoughts exactly, husband.” Kurt held out a hand to Blaine as he climbed down the ladder, then wound his arm through Blaine’s as they quickly walked towards the door, lights abandoned on the porch. He couldn’t help but smile when Blaine chased him up the stairs to his bedroom, singing “a beautiful sight, we’re happy tonight…”

A winter wonderland indeed.


	10. Jumble

_December, 2014_

“Try them again,” Rachel said, poking at Sam’s arm. 

“I’ve texted Blaine five times, Rach,” Sam said, taking both of Rachel’s hands in his and pinning them to her sides so that she couldn’t poke him again.

“Then try Kurt.”

“I have. Twice.”

“Hmph. Fine, then. We’ll just have to have game night without them.”

“I don’t think we can play Taboo with just two people.”

Rachel pulled her hands away from Sam and dug her phone out of her purse. “I can post in the New Directions Facebook group and see if any of the kids want to play.”

“Rachel, come on. I’m sure they have better things to do tonight than hang out with their teachers.” Sam tugged on Rachel’s wrist, trying to get her to come closer. “Why don’t we just watch a movie? You can pick.” He knew this was asking for trouble, but as long as Rachel snuggled with him on the couch, he could probably tolerate anything she wanted to watch. As long as it was in color.

“I don’t know. Maybe we should drive over there, make sure they’re okay.”

“Drive over where?”

“To Kurt and Blaine’s new apartment. They _knew_ tonight was game night. What could possibly be so important that they skipped game night?”

Suddenly Sam’s phone beeped with a text, and Rachel lunged for it. “It’s Blaine!” she crowed, but then her face sank into a pout.

“What?” Sam asked, leaning over to look at Blaine’s message. It didn’t make any sense, it was just a jumble of meaningless letters. 

“Well, superhero, decode it,” Rachel demanded, hands on her hips.

“I don’t think it’s a code, Rachel.” Then Sam’s phone beeped again, and they nearly bashed their heads together as they both moved to look at the screen. There weren’t any words or even letters this time, just a photo of a dark red sock with a green and white paisley pattern, hanging from a door handle. “Oh.”

Rachel let out a long sigh. “They’re definitely not coming to game night, are they?” 

“Nope, I think they are definitely not coming.” 

Rachel barked out a laugh and then slapped her hand over her mouth, blushing when Sam looked at her curiously. “No, you’re totally right. Not to game night, anyway. Although…”

Suddenly Sam got it. “Rachel Berry, you have a dirty, dirty mind.”

“And you have an ample and delicious mouth.”

It turned out that plenty of games were played that night, and everyone came. Just not in the way Rachel had originally intended.


	11. Kink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: depression

_December, 2014_

Blaine's been down for the past few days. Kurt has seen him plastering his show face on, pushing himself to get through Glee rehearsals, smiling his forced smile at everyone. Kurt’s seen the way he looks when the last kid finally leaves the choir room, and he can let it all go. It doesn’t look like he’s having any fun.

It’s just a few minutes before their alarm is due to go off. Kurt fiddles with the clock, making sure it isn’t going to ring. Then he turns to Blaine, cocooned next to him in a swath of blankets, and snuggles close. He strokes his messy hair off his forehead, and presses a soft kiss to his cheek.

Blaine wakes up slowly, blinking his eyes in the dim morning light. “Kurt?” He turns to look at the clock. “Did we forget to set the alarm?”

“No, we set it. I turned it off.”

Blaine scrubs at his face. “It can’t be Saturday already.”

Kurt smiles. “No. But we’re not going to work today, unless you have something you can’t reschedule.”

“We’re not?”

“Nope. I already talked to Rachel, she'll handle Glee without us."

Blaine blinks again, his brow furrowing. "That's not fair to Rachel."

"Mr. Schue will be there to help her. And besides, she's taking two days off next week to go to New York." Kurt twists around and finds Blaine's phone on the night table. "Take a look at your calendar. I bet there's nothing there you have to go to McKinley for today."

Blaine sits up a little and looks at his schedule. "Aside from Glee rehearsal, just lesson planning, a piano lesson with Rachel and Sam that Sam wasn't sure he could make anyway, and working on that number we were going to sing next week."

"Good." Kurt takes Blaine's phone back. He’s not about to let him start scrolling through social media now. "So is it okay with you to take the day off?"

Blaine looks hesitant. "But, why?"

Kurt scoots closer, cupping Blaine’s cheek tenderly. "Because you need it."

Blaine’s eyes widen in protest. "Kurt, no. I'm fine. I've been doing fine, I got through two hours of Glee yesterday, and the tenor section rehearsal, and our planning meeting..." 

"Yeah, I know you did, you’ve been doing everything you’re supposed to. Don’t misunderstand, I'm not saying you're falling down on the job. You're an excellent coach. But... How do you _feel_?"

Blaine's eyes fill with tears, and he presses his lips together hard. 

"Sweetheart, it's okay. Come here." Kurt lays back down, pulling Blaine with him until they are firmly wrapped together, Blaine's face pressed into his neck. Kurt strokes his head and shoulders, rocking him gently until Blaine catches his breath again. Kurt never really knows what to say, it’s so difficult to put his feelings into words. He kisses the top of Blaine’s head, spreads his hands on his back and just holds him tight.

"I'm a mess," Blaine mumbled. "I thought I was doing okay, I've been doing everything right. You shouldn't have to... It's ridiculous."

"It's not. If you had diabetes, or asthma, there'd be days when your blood sugar was off, or you needed a nebulizer. This isn't any different. Let me help you."

"How?"

Kurt shrugs. This is the potential flaw in his plan. He knows there isn’t any way to magically make Blaine feel better. But he has been doing some reading on the subject of depression over the past few months, and had talked to Blaine's therapist a couple of times after they met the week after the wedding. Besides, Kurt has always been one to go with his gut.

"First we're going back to sleep for a little while. Then we'll have a late breakfast. After that, ice skating."

"Ice skating?" Blaine asks, raising up on an elbow and looking at Kurt. "Ice skating is going to cure my depression?" A hint of a smile tugs at his mouth.

"You never know. There's a lovely state park not too far from here, and a lake, and the snow is fresh... Seems like it could be nice."

Blaine eyes search Kurt's. He’s considering it, at least. "Okay."

“Yeah?”

There’s hope in Blaine’s eyes that wasn’t there before. “Yeah.” He smiles and lays back down, curling into Kurt’s side. 

Kurt tucks the comforter around them both, and slides his fingers into Blaine’s hair, cradling his head against his chest. “I love you, husband.”

“Love you too.”

They sleep for several more much needed hours, and then Kurt goes into the kitchen while Blaine gets into the shower. Kurt makes omelets with tomato and spinach and slices up strawberries for dessert. They take their time at the table, then do a quick clean up and hit the road, gloves and hats and scarves ready for their outdoor adventure.

Blaine is quiet in the car, and Kurt doesn’t push him. Blaine can be quiet if he wants to. He shouldn’t have to be on all the time. They’ll never make it through a lifetime together if they have to be constantly entertaining each other. Kurt thinks that’s something that has exhausted Blaine in the past. Kurt sets a hand on Blaine’s knee and gives it a squeeze; Blaine gives Kurt a grateful smile in return.

When they leave the parking lot and walk over to the lake, Kurt knows he made a good choice. Blaine’s eyes light up at the sight – a perfect winter wonderland set out before them, snow covered pine trees framing a beautiful frozen lake. The ice is dotted with skaters, but it’s blissfully quiet. They put their skates on and venture out, moving slowly as they get used to it. They skate together for a while and then part ways. Blaine can go faster than Kurt is comfortable with, but from what Kurt can see, he isn’t racing around like the speed demon he sometimes pretends to be. Instead he’s making long, rhythmic strokes with his legs, one after another after another. It’s almost mesmerizing to watch. Kurt wonders if he is doing yoga breathing, or meditating. 

Whatever goes on, Blaine is red cheeked and smiling softly when he returns to Kurt. They decide to trade their skates for boots, and take the thermos of hot chocolate with them as they head for the path into the woods. 

It’s even more peaceful here, just the sound of the light wind in the trees. They find a clearing with a few picnic benches and sit, sipping their hot chocolate in comfortable silence.

After a while Blaine leans his shoulder on Kurt’s and sighs. “Thank you for today, Kurt. I know this puts a kink in our plans, having to deal with this, but I really appreciate it. It was just what I needed.”

Kurt pushes against Blaine’s shoulder and turns, catching his eye. “This is not a kink in our plans,” he says, taking Blaine’s gloved hands in his. “This _is_ my plan – _our_ plan.”

Blaine looks away, shrugs. 

“Blaine, look at me,” Kurt says gently, and waits for Blaine to return his gaze. “Our plan is to be together for the rest of our lives, right?”

Blaine can’t help but smile at this. It’s a wonderful thought. “Yeah, but-”

“No buts. That’s the plan. No matter how you’re feeling, no matter how I’m feeling, we’re doing this together. We’ll take care of each other. We might not know how, all the time, but we’ll learn.” 

Blaine is silent, his eyes wide.

“Okay?” Kurt asks.

Blaine nods. “Okay.” He sucks in a long breath, lets it out, and wraps his arms around Kurt, pulling him close. His nose is cold against Kurt’s cheek. “You’re the best.”

“No, you’re the best,” Kurt whispers, grinning.

“No, you’re the best.” Blaine giggles, then snorts and pulls back. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you’re adorable.” 

Blaine ducks his head, looks up at Kurt through his long eyelashes. Still adorable.

Kurt stands up and holds out a hand to Blaine. “What do you say we relocate to somewhere a little warmer?”

“Couch and a movie?” Blaine asks, taking Kurt’s hand and standing up, then offering his arm to Kurt.

“Only if it’s appropriately holiday themed,” Kurt teases. 

“ _Love, Actually_?” Blaine suggests.

“Love, for sure.”


	12. Legend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Tina are playing a familiar game, but Blaine doesn't want to play.

_December, 2014_

When Blaine stops into the teacher’s lounge to grab a coffee before heading out, he finds Sam cackling like mad at his laptop screen. “Sam, what’s going on?”

“Dude!” Sam shifts his laptop on the table so Blaine can see it too. “I’m skyping with Tina. She’s been studying for finals for like four days straight without any sleep and she’s hilarious. Say hi!”

Blaine obediently leans down and smiles at the screen. “Hi Tina.” Tina’s hair is disheveled and she’s wearing a sweatshirt that has seen better days. “How’s the studying going?”

“Blainey!” Tina exclaims. It’s loud, even through the tiny speakers on Sam’s computer. “I’m taking a break. We’re making our lists, you know, our celebrity free pass lists. And we’re not allowed to have the same person on our lists, we have to pick different people.”

“Tina’s list is really long,” Sam says, shaking his head. “But mine wins out for quality.”

“Oh?” Blaine says, playing along. He doesn’t have much time before he is supposed to meet Kurt and drive home, but it’s hard to resist the grin on Sam’s face. “Who’s on your list, Tina?”

“Sam keeps taking all the good people that I wanted on _my_ list,” Tina complains. “He even took Neil Patrick Harris.”

Blaine looks between Sam and Tina, who has grabbed what looks like a bottle of diet Coke and is guzzling it down with gusto. “Tina, you do know Neil Patrick Harris is gay, right?”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s just a game,” she replies defiantly.

“And besides,” Sam says, “that guy is legen – wait for it – dary!” Sam waves a hand in the air and cheers, and Tina laughs with delight.

“All right, we all know Tina’s issues with gay guys, but Sam, why is Neil Patrick Harris on your list?” Blaine asks. 

Sam just grins. “He’s awesome, didn’t you hear me?”

“He’s got Idris Elba on there, too,” Tina adds, pouting. “And Chris Hemsworth.”

“Now you’re just teasing her,” Blaine says, catching Sam’s supposed- to-be-subtle wink.

“You’re just jealous that you’re not on his list,” Tina says. 

“Blaine’s not on my list yet – but he will be some day, when he’s a celebrity.” Sam holds a hand up to Blaine and crows “Blam” when Blaine high fives him back.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” Kurt comes up to their table and waves at the screen. “Hi Tina.”

Blaine stands up and gathers his things. “Come on, we’ll be late for dinner at your dad’s. I’ll fill you in on the way.”

Blaine recounts the silly conversation as they drive over to the Hummel-Hudson’s. When Kurt parks the car at the house, he turns to Blaine with a mischievous smile on his face. “All right, husband, who’s on your list?”

Blaine smirks at Kurt for a moment, but then gives it up. He’s not playing this game – it simply doesn’t make any sense to him. “Nobody.”

“What do you mean? The rules are you have a free pass – no consequences. It’s just a game,” Kurt prompts him.

“Doesn’t matter. There’s no one else.”

The teasing look disappears from Kurt’s face, replaced by a more serious expression. “I know, sweetheart.” Gone are the days when Kurt would remind him of the incident with Eli at every chance he got. But Blaine isn’t refusing to play the game out of fear of being accused of cheating. He just doesn’t have a list.

“No, I really mean it. Even if it was totally consequence free – which nothing is, but I get it isn’t real – why would I want some person I don’t know over you, just because he’s famous?”

“Maybe because he’s got a great body?” 

“You’ve got a great body.” Blaine looks away and then meets Kurt’s eyes. “Honestly, this game doesn’t work for me. I have everything I want.”

“Okay, I get it.” Kurt leans over and kisses Blaine, and Blaine lets himself sink into it. Kurt’s lips are soft and insistent, and they kiss for longer than they probably should in the driveway of Burt’s house. Kurt wraps a hand around the back of Blaine’s neck, pulling him closer. Blaine could stay right here forever. He’s not exaggerating; he doesn’t want anyone else. Kurt is everything.

Kurt pulls back and runs a hand over his hair. It’s a little messy, and completely adorable. “You know, someday we could be celebrities.”

Blaine huffs out a laugh. “You think we’ll be on people’s free pass lists?”

“Definitely. And not just those. All kinds of lists. Tony nominations, most influential people, hottest male celebrities…”

“You think?” They get out of the car and walk up the path to the door arm in arm.

“Absolutely.”

Blaine is mostly just amused by the conversation, but it does give him an idea. Under the tree that year Kurt unwraps a framed (fake, but remarkably real looking) People magazine cover with a photo of Kurt at his most sultry. The headline reads “Kurt Hummel is the SEXIEST MAN ALIVE.” And that night, Blaine demonstrates that as far as he is concerned, nothing could be more true.


	13. Moon

_December, 2014_

As Kurt opens the door to the apartment, he is greeted by the sound of Blaine singing “Fly Me To The Moon,” clearly enjoying himself as he croons the Sinatra classic. He’s got an apron over his dark jeans and brightly striped sweater as he spins and twirls, doing the dishes at the sink. It’s a testament to just how much Kurt had been caught up in his thoughts that he’s almost surprised to find him there.

“Hello, husband!” Blaine grins as he takes Kurt’s hands to dance him around the kitchen as he launches into the last verse of the song. _“Fill my heart with song, and let me sing forevermore. You are all I long for, all I worship, and adore. In other words, please be true. In other words, I love you.”_

Despite the beautiful words his husband is singing, his honey eyes filled with love for Kurt, Kurt responds stiffly, and Blaine can tell. When Blaine finishes the song he drops Kurt’s hands, his joyful expression rearranging itself into a look of concern.

“Kurt? What’s wrong?”

He’s not sure he has an actual reason, other than the obvious. Kurt shrugs, looks away from Blaine’s eyes. “Long day.” He stayed late at McKinley to help Rachel with an audition song, and it took every last ounce of patience he had not to explode at the entitled attitude she had been flaunting tonight. Kurt tries to be supportive even during her most diva-esque moments, but some days it’s harder than others. There was construction on the highway on the drive home, and his head is pounding.

“I made chicken marsala, with green beans. It came out pretty well. I can reheat some for you?” Blaine is already moving towards the refrigerator, eager to make Kurt feel better. They both know he gets cranky when he doesn’t eat. But right now the thought of sitting at the table with Blaine and praising what is almost certainly a delicious home cooked meal is more than he can handle.

And the realization that he doesn’t have the energy to be good to the love of his life makes him feel even worse.

“No, thanks,” he manages to get out, and cringes as he sees Blaine’s face fall.

“You want to just sack out on the couch and we’ll watch a movie? There’s some chicken soup from a few days ago if you want that, or we’ve got some cheese and crackers.” Blaine’s not giving up, but it’s not working.

“Blaine, I’m…” Kurt doesn’t know what to say. They’ve got an evening free with no other plans except spending time together, and Blaine went to the trouble to cook them dinner, and Kurt has ruined it all. “I’m just so tired. Rachel was exhausting, and I was up too late last night working on something for school, so the day was off from the beginning…” 

Blaine nods, biting his lip. “Okay…” Even Blaine has run out of suggestions.

“I think I’m going to take a little power nap.” Because right now, bed seems like the only good solution to his mood. “I’ll set my alarm for thirty minutes and then maybe I’ll feel more like a human – I’ll come out and we can watch some cheesy holiday specials.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Blaine’s mouth. “Sounds like a plan.” He leans in and gives Kurt a quick kiss on the cheek. “Sweet dreams.”

Kurt quickly strips out of his clothes and falls into bed. The moment his cheek hits the pillow he knows he made the right choice.

When Kurt next opens his eyes, he’s confused. It’s morning, early, but Blaine isn’t with him. He’s not curled up on Kurt’s chest, snoring softly, or on his side with Kurt’s arm pulled around his waist, or starfished out on top of the covers like he does when he gets overheated. In fact, his side of the bed is still partially made, as if he didn’t sleep there at all.

Suddenly Kurt remembers what happened the night before, and his stomach drops. He had told Blaine he’d set an alarm– but did he? He knows the answer even before he checks the clock. Sleep had come over him so fast he had completely forgotten about the plan.

He pulls on a robe and runs his fingers through his hair, walking slowly into the living room. Blaine is asleep on the couch, still in his sweater and jeans, their red throw blanket partially covering him. His socked feet stick out at the bottom. His head is crooked at an awkward angle and one arm is draped over the side of the couch – it isn’t really big enough to sleep on. Kurt squeezes his eyes together, wishing he could go back in time and have a do-over for the night before. 

Blaine blinks his eyes open and sees Kurt, moves to sit up, wincing as he tilts his neck to remove the kink. As he comes awake, his eyes grow sad.

“Blaine,” Kurt says. “I forgot to set the alarm.”

Blaine presses his lips together. “You must have been really tired.”

“I didn’t mean for you to sleep out here. Why didn’t you come to bed?” Kurt knows the answer before he asks. He shouldn’t have even asked, it’s insulting to Blaine. Because he knows what he’ll say.

“You wanted to be alone. What was I supposed to do?”

And it’s true. If Blaine had offered to nap with him, Kurt probably would have pushed him away. 

Kurt approaches Blaine slowly, his hand reaching out. “I’m really sorry…”

But Blaine won’t meet his eyes. He stands up and takes a few steps away from Kurt before he replies. “I’m going to take a shower. We should probably drive in separately today. I’m not sure of my schedule.”

Kurt watches him go, trying not to cry. He fucked up, and he knows it.


	14. Number

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued directly from the previous chapter.

_December, 2014_

 

Blaine washes his face, brushes his teeth, and turns on the water in the shower. Then he turns it off, wraps a towel around his waist, and goes back out into the kitchen. Kurt is standing at the counter, staring at the coffee machine. He looks up when he hears Blaine approach. 

“Blaine?” Kurt’s surprised to see him, as he should be – there’s no way he could have taken a shower in the four and a half minutes he was gone. Besides that, his hair is still a mess.

“If I’m out of the shower by 7:30, can you be ready by 8:15?” It’s their regular morning negotiation. Blaine can’t figure out what else to say, but at least maybe he can make that dejected look on Kurt’s face go away.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Kurt says, his voice just this side of shaky.

Blaine reaches out and touches Kurt’s hand with a fingertip, his eyes flickering hesitantly to Kurt’s, then goes back to the bathroom. Standing under the hot water of the shower, he shifts to let it soothe his aching muscles. He retraces their steps from the night before, trying to decipher what had gone wrong. They’re both smart people, why do they keep doing this?

\-----

Their conversation in the car on the way to school is stilted. After a few minutes, Blaine digs his iPod out of his bag, and holds it up. “Want to listen to our options for the girls’ number next week?”

Kurt nods his approval. Blaine turns on the music, and they both relax, grateful for the reprieve.

At the end of the school day, Blaine catches Sam as he is heading down the hall. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

They go back to the choir room, Sam turning a chair around and throwing his leg over it. “What’s up?”

“Kurt and I sort of got into a fight.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Pretty much figured that out from the way you guys were looking at each other all day like sad puppy dogs.”

Blaine sighs. He had thought that they hid it pretty well in Glee rehearsal, but apparently not so much. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, what did you do wrong?”

Blaine smiles ruefully. “I didn’t do anything wrong – not much, anyway.”

“Then, what did Kurt do?”

“Not much, either.” Blaine knew Kurt didn’t mean to hurt him. He had just forgotten to turn on the alarm. Although Blaine certainly felt like shit when he realized that he was going to end up sleeping on the couch, it wasn’t the end of the world. Except for the part where it made him wonder if Kurt was going to change his mind again, if he really didn’t want to be together every day for the rest of their lives after all. That part was pretty awful. 

Sam stands up and paces across the small room. “Then why are you fighting?”

“Kurt made it clear that he needed space last night. I wound up sleeping on the couch. And when I woke up, I wasn’t very happy about it.”

“He made you sleep on the couch? In your own place?”

“He didn’t make me, exactly. It’s just how it turned out.”

Sam drums his fingers on the desk. “I still don’t get it.”

Blaine knows Sam might not be the best person to seek advice from, but at least he can be himself with Sam. He’ll listen to him, even if he doesn’t get it. “I just can’t figure out if I should be mad at him or not.”

“That’s weird, dude. You don’t decide if you’re mad, you just are mad, or you’re not.” Sam was clearly perplexed by this conversation.

Blaine shook his head. “I don’t think that’s true. I could have chosen to laugh it off, but instead I got mad.”

“That’s because you _were_ mad.”

“But if I had been just a little more awake this morning, and not so sore from sleeping all twisted up, I might not have reacted the way I did.”

“So don’t be mad,” Sam says, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t see what’s so hard about this.”

“Well…” Blaine tried to put his finger on what was bothering him. “Sometimes I think I give in too easily.”

“With Kurt?”

“Yeah.” 

“How do you know how easily is too easily?” Sam asked.

“Exactly.” 

“I think you need to talk to Kurt about this.”

“I know I do. We’ve actually talked about it before, back when Sue was trying to get us together, and doing all that ridiculous stuff.”

“Like trapping you in an elevator with Kurt?”

“Mm-hmm. And pulling that stunt at Breadstix, and pretending that she found evidence that Dave and I were related.”

“But there’s no point in getting mad at Sue for that kind of crazy shit. She does it all the time.”

“That’s what Kurt and I talked about. That it didn’t make sense to get upset about every little thing in life, even when someone was as nuts as Sue.”

“That makes sense.”

“But we’ve never been good at it, me and Kurt, when it had to do with each other. We were always getting upset. I can’t count the number of times we got annoyed about stupid stuff. I thought we’d be better at it now.”

“Why, because your wedding cast some kind of spell over you?” Sam waves his arms around as if he had a magic wand. “I’m pretty sure you’re the same person you were a month ago, and Kurt is, too.”

“If you’re trying to reassure me, it’s not working.”

“Look,” Sam says, coming around the desk to Blaine, “you just said neither of you really did anything wrong, and you’re not really mad. If you don’t want to let little things upset you, you really shouldn’t let this one do it. Go talk to him.”

“I want to,” Blaine says sadly. “But it’s so awkward. And we’re supposed to go to Kurt’s dad’s for dinner, we can’t really talk there. By the time we get home, it will be late again.”

“No, it won’t.” Blaine and Sam both turn to see Kurt at the door, a nervous look on his face. “Sam, can you excuse us for a minute?”

Before Sam even leaves the room, Blaine is up out of his chair and wrapping his arms tightly around Kurt. He doesn’t know how much Kurt heard of his conversation with Sam, but at this point he doesn’t even care. Kurt hugs him back just as fiercely, his hands clutching Blaine’s sweater.

“I’m sorry I was a jerk this morning,” Blaine breathes out.

“I’m sorry I made you sleep on the couch,” Kurt responds, pulling back to look at Blaine. “Next time shove me over and get under the covers, okay? You shouldn’t ever feel like you can’t come to bed.”

“But you wanted to be alone,” Blaine protests.

“Yeah, but that has limits. Spending the evening apart is one thing, assuming we can even do that in our own house. Spending the night apart? That’s not what I signed up for, husband. I always want you in our bed.”

“You do?” Blaine winces as he hears his voice crack. Because that’s what hurt the most about this whole thing, the thought that maybe Kurt had decided he didn’t want Blaine in his space – not just for a little while, but all night long. It didn’t seem like a productive way to begin a marriage. And it made his heart sad to think that Kurt didn’t want to sleep with him.

“Of course I want you there. Falling asleep with you, having you next to me all night long, waking up with you… I love that. It makes me feel safe, and connected. Loved.” Kurt’s face is open, and his blue eyes are bright with unshed tears. 

“Me too,” Blaine says, leaning against Kurt and nuzzling into his neck, fingers sliding into his hair. “I missed you last night.”

“Any chance I can have a do-over?”

Blaine smiles against Kurt’s skin. “What about dinner at your dad’s?”

“He’ll get over it.”

“Okay.” Blaine swallows, trying to rein in the emotions coursing through him. “We have to figure out what to do, if we’re both home and you want space. I can’t really make myself scarce in a one-bedroom apartment. And whatever we get in New York is going to be even smaller than this place.”

“I know that, I do.” Kurt bites his lip. “I talked to a therapist about this, you know.”

Blaine tilts his head. “No. You never told me what you talked about.”

“Intimacy. As in, my problems with.” Kurt is chomping harder on his lip, and Blaine can’t resist sliding a thumb across his mouth to stop the abuse. He cups Kurt’s face with his hand, but Kurt won’t meet his gaze.

“Hey. I think we’re plenty _intimate_.” Blaine lets a hint of humor warm his voice. “And the rest of it, well… we’re a work in progress.”

“Yeah?” Kurt looks at him then, his eyes searching Blaine’s.

“Yeah.” Blaine holds his hand out to Kurt and he takes it, then leads the way down the hall. “Do you think maybe we should…”

“See someone?” Kurt finishes his thought. “I think that’s a good idea.”

As they head outside, Blaine begins to softly sing the song that had him so joyful the night before. _Fly me to the moon, and let me sing among the stars…_ ” 

By the time he reaches the second verse, Kurt is singing along with him, lightly harmonizing up a third. This is Blaine’s favorite part of the song, and it’s no less true today. _Fill my heart with song and let me sing forevermore. You are all I long for, all I worship and adore. In other words, please be true. In other words, I love you._


	15. Ocean

_December, 2014_

Kurt turns over in bed, again. It’s the middle of the night and he feels like he hasn’t slept for more than an hour or so at a time. He lies there, trying to keep still and be quiet, and realizes that although Blaine is probably trying to do the same, he’s awake, too.

Kurt snorts out a little sigh and turns over again, poking Blaine in the chest until he flutters his eyes open. “Why can’t we sleep?”

Blaine slides closer to him, tucks his face into his neck. His cheek is scratchy and warm. “Stayed up too late.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, we should be more tired, not less tired.”

Blaine half shrugs, the movement pushing against Kurt’s chest. “Messed up our sleep cycles or something.”

It’s nice lying there with Blaine, as always, his soft curls tickling Kurt’s chin. Nice is an understatement. But Kurt’s restless. “Want to go out and admire our accomplishment?”

Blaine pushes up on one elbow, smiling sleepily. “Sure.” His eyebrows quirk together. “But no warm milk.”

Kurt laughs, sitting up and sliding off the bed, a hand stretched out behind him to pull Blaine along. “I haven’t made you drink warm milk in ages.”

“I wouldn’t describe three weeks ago as ages.”

“You liked it that time – you asked for more!”

Blaine slides off the bed and pulls Kurt into a lazy hug. “It had cinnamon in it, and something else… it was yummy.” He kisses Kurt on the cheek then lays his head on his shoulder, his body sagging against Kurt’s as they stand there together. “I’m so sleepy.”

“Come on.” Kurt takes Blaine’s hand and leads them out to the living room. Everything is cast in a soft red glow from the holiday lights they had spent hours stringing around the room the night before. Kurt is heading towards the couch but Blaine makes for the tree, sitting down cross legged on the floor in front of it. They had done a remarkably good job at finding a perfectly shaped live tree that fit just right in their (admittedly large for an apartment) living room, and had fixed it up with lights and a star at the top before finally calling it a night.

Kurt takes their throw blanket from the arm of the couch and goes to sit next to Blaine, wrapping them in the blanket. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“Mmm.” Blaine leans his shoulder against Kurt’s, winds his fingers into the bottom of his pajama top. “And it smells so good. I love the way these trees smell.”

“Me too.”

Blaine reaches out a hand to the plastic tubs of boxed up ornaments. They hadn’t gotten to the ornament hanging stage yet. He pops the top off one of the boxes. It’s a collection of little things they had collected in the city last year. Some are obviously related to their time in New York – the Empire State Building, for example. Others are a bit more subtle.

Blaine carefully slides one out of the box, turns it in his hand. It’s a scallop shell, beautifully marked with dark purple and brown, almost a perfect fan except for a tiny chip on one side. “Remember when we found this?”

Kurt nods. “That day out on Long Island. It was freezing.” 

Blaine laughs. “You had three coats on. I’ve never seen your cheeks so red.”

“I didn’t have three coats on, just two. And a vest. And obviously three would have been a good idea.”

On a whim they had taken the train out of the city for a day, wanting to put some space between themselves and the oceans of people swarming the streets during the holiday season. They had found their way to an almost deserted boardwalk by the beach, and walked for longer than they should have in the cold, mesmerized by the sight of the waves crashing on the shore and the sound of the wind skimming over the sand. 

“That was a good day,” Blaine says, setting the shell carefully back down in the box. His voice is a little sad, and Kurt thinks he knows why.

“Living together wasn’t as easy as we had thought it would be,” Kurt says. While they hadn’t properly confronted the issue until the spring, the seeds had been sown from the time Blaine moved in. And the stress of the upcoming holidays had further upped the level of tension in the loft, especially when Rachel left for her out of town Funny Girl run.

Blaine nods, his eyes soft. “It’s still not, is it?” They’re both a little tender from recent events. Kurt has seen Blaine side-eyeing the couch, and imagines him making plans to insure that whatever furniture they acquire for their New York apartment is big enough to sleep comfortably on. 

Kurt’s not sure what to say. He never really is. He pulls Blaine tighter against his side, his hold a bit awkward from the way they are sitting on the floor. Blaine looks up at their tree, gazes around at the holiday lights gently illuminating the room, and then turns to Kurt. The way Blaine looks at him, when he’s feeling emotional like this, is almost too much for Kurt to take. It’s wonderful, and scary, and the best thing in the world.

“It’s not easy, but it’s worth it,” Blaine says. His eyes are sparkling in the light, and his face is sure. He leans in and kisses Kurt, his hand on Kurt’s cheek to pull him close. As Kurt kisses back, pouring as much love as he can into the kiss, he knows with all his heart that Blaine is right.


	16. Passion

December, 2014

Myron is coming to grips with the idea that while it might take him some time to be really accepted by the New Directions, there is a lot he can learn along the way. Despite appearances, he can take instruction when it is worth his time. And he knows that if he just keeps his ears and eyes open, he’ll catch on.

He was prepared for the general indifference of the older kids to his particular brand of star quality. He knew that if they just got to know him, if they gave him a chance, they’d see how valuable a member of the team he could be. So he watches, and listens, and waits for the right opportunity to fit in. At least, that’s what he tries to do.

As a whole, the girls have more patience with him than the guys. Kitty has her good days and bad days, and on her good days she treats him almost like a potential friend. An ally, at least. And after a while Madison seems to develop a soft spot for him. He thinks that maybe he reminds her of Mason when he was younger. He and Mason share a certain affinity for the spotlight. So he does his best to watch Mason and copy his behavior. It seems to work, sometimes. 

The addition of the Warblers to the group has really worked in Myron’s favor. They are just as new to McKinley has he is (newer, really), and the whole battle over their assimilation gave the New Directions someone else to be annoyed at besides him. Plus their insistence on wearing their uniforms most days makes them stick out like a hand full of sore thumbs. 

But the best part about the Warblers is that there are two freshman among the Dalton boys, one of whom has just turned fourteen, making him barely a year older than Myron. Bentley isn’t quite as small as Myron, but then he doesn’t have the guts to go out on stage and let it all hang out, either. But he is better at math, and seems to have an easier time talking to people without having them ignore him or shove him against the wall. Myron tries to figure out why Bentley is better at these things, to pinpoint exactly what he needs to do to improve. They talk about it at lunch, sort of. There are definitely things Myron can learn from Bentley, and he thinks Bentley can learn a thing or two from him as well. 

Other than Glee, Myron’s classes at McKinley are kind of a mixed bag. Some are just as easy as his middle school classes – English and History never seem to change. Science would be hard, except that there’s a super awkward girl who has adopted him as her pet, and she lets him copy all of her labs. But Glee is definitely the highlight of his day.

Among other things, in Glee Myron gets to observe Rachel Berry. He has been a fan of Rachel Berry forever, it seems like. He had read all the blogs about her role as Fanny Brice, and had memorized all her lines. He followed her move to California, and had been waiting on pins and needles for her television show. Clearly whoever cancelled it was insane – hadn’t they seen all her you tube videos from high school? She was fantastic even then.

And now, when she sings for the class, Myron can’t believe his luck. Rachel Berry is a true star, just like he is, and she’s right here in the very same room he is! Aside from class they haven’t spent much time together – unfortunately, she has turned down all his suggestions that they go out to dinner or hang out at her house and sing together – but he knows this exposure to a real Broadway diva will take him far.

But out of all the learning experiences Myron has had since he joined the New Directions, the phenomenon that the grown-ups call “Klaine” is the most enlightening. He had felt a little out of the loop when Mr. Hummel and Mr. Anderson returned from their honeymoon, as they had been away when he joined the group, and he wasn’t sure at first what was so special about them. It didn’t take long, however, to appreciate why everyone fell silent when they took the stage. There is something magical in the way they sing to each other, not just the power of their voices, like with Rachel Berry, but something that comes from their hearts. 

Yes, as young as he is, Myron understands love. And the way these two handsome men gaze at each other as they tease and taunt their way through flirty love songs and romantic ballads is certainly the most beautiful expression of love he has ever seen. He watches them every chance he gets, even their late afternoon practice sessions when they think no one is watching.

Even more educational than their singing is the view Myron gets when he slips into the little space between the curtains on the stage and watches Mr. Hummel and Mr. Anderson go at it, the old sofa in the wings creaking as Mr. Hummel swings a leg over Mr. Anderson and pushes him down on his back. Mr. Hummel’s face is turning pink, and Mr. Anderson’s head tilts back, his eyelashes fluttering. Mr. Anderson doesn’t seem to care when Mr. Hummel messes up his neat hairdo, and Mr. Hummel doesn’t even protest when Mr. Anderson gives a sharp tug to his pristine white shirt to untuck it from his pants. Myron has never seen anyone kiss like that before, or – god – heard anyone make those kinds of _noises._ And he doesn’t understand why Mr. Hummel seems so insistent on Mr. Anderson kissing _that spot, Blaine, oh, yeah, right there_ on his neck. But he’s here to learn, from some of the most talented people he’s ever met, and so he’ll keep watching until he understands. That’s what school is for, and Myron has always been an excellent student.


	17. Question

December, 2014

Blaine pushed his chair back from the table, taking a sip of his coffee and admiring his restraint at having eaten only one piece of the deep chocolate yule log his mom had brought over for dessert. Pam, Burt and Carole had come to their apartment for dinner tonight, just a few days before Christmas, to give Blaine and Kurt a chance to throw a holiday dinner party just for the five of them. As far as Blaine could tell, it was quite a success – the leg of lamb was perfectly cooked, the roasted asparagus with balsamic vinegar was just the right side of crisp, and the leeks in cream sauce made Burt change his mind about vegetables – well, certain vegetables, anyway.

Pam and Burt made quick work of the dishes while Blaine served the coffee, leaving Carole and Kurt to get a fire going in the living room. From where they sat at the table they could see the flames flickering in the windows that lined the opposite wall, giving the whole space a magical feeling.

Kurt slid his chair closer to Blaine’s and set his hand on Blaine’s thigh, just a subtle touch as he continued talking to Pam about seasonal color schemes. Blaine caught Carole giving Burt a meaningful look, after which she excused herself and headed off to the bathroom. A minute later, she was back, clearing her throat to get everyone’s attention. Pam straightened up in her chair and smiled broadly at Blaine, making him feel just a tad self-conscious. His mom does that to him sometimes.

“Oh, now?” Burt asked, turning to Carole. “Okay, okay.” He turned back to Kurt and Blaine, and stood up as if he was about to give a speech. Maybe he was.

“So, we know you two didn’t really get to plan anything special for yourselves with this surprise wedding thing,” he began, and Kurt’s eyes widened as he came to the same realization that Blaine had a moment before – something was definitely up. “And don’t get too excited, because you’re not going to get to plan this either.”

Pam laughed nervously, and Carole just gave Burt a little shove. “Get on with it, Burt.”

“All right, all right. Here you go.” Burt nodded at Carole and she pulled a large red envelope out from behind her back, holding it out to the two of them. Blaine took it and tried to hand it to Kurt, but he just frowned and shook his head.

“Dad, what’s going on?”

“Just open it, kid.”

Blaine carefully opened the envelope and pulled out a large folder with a photograph of a snowy landscape on the cover. He opened it and set it on Kurt’s lap as they pulled out several brochures and flyers and a couple of homemade coupons.

“What’s all this?” Blaine asked. He turned to Kurt, catching his eye. “Are we going somewhere?”

But Kurt looked as confused as Blaine felt. “I don’t have the foggiest. Dad?”

Burt grinned at them. “We made you two a reservation for three nights at this place Carole found, over New Year’s. It’s our Christmas present to you.”

“It’s a ski resort,” Pam explained. “The cabin is right on the mountain, you can even ski right down on to the slope. There’s a lodge with a restaurant that’s gotten great reviews, and cross-country trails, too.”

“But you don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Carole said. “We weren’t sure if you’d rather be here with your friends, so we didn’t pay for anything yet. We can even cancel the resort without charge if we do it soon – that’s why we didn’t want to wait until Christmas to tell you about it.”

“But you’d love it, sweetie,” Pam said, getting out of her chair and standing next to Blaine, pulling various brochures out of the folder. “I even got your skis tuned up, and a pair of Cooper’s too, for Kurt. And don’t worry, there will still be a few presents under the tree for you to unwrap.”

Blaine buried his face in his hands and groaned, then he and Kurt stood up and exchanged hugs all around. He frankly wasn’t sure if Kurt wanted to accept the offer or not – he wasn’t sure yet if he wanted to – but it was an awfully nice gesture on the part of their parents.

Later that night, when he came out of the bathroom in his sleep pants and sweatshirt, Kurt was sitting on the couch cross-legged, his laptop on the coffee table in front of him.

“Not only are they going to pay for the cabin and the lift tickets, there’s a New Year’s Eve banquet at the restaurant that’s included in the package.” Kurt turned the laptop so that Blaine could see it as well. “Look at this.” The ballroom overlooked the snow covered hills, creating a beautiful view. “And if you go skiing at night, they give you candles to carry down the mountain.”

“Candles?”

“Not real candles,” Kurt murmured, clicking on another link. “And there’s fireworks on New Year’s.” He had a dreamy look on his face. It was adorable.

Blaine sat down next to Kurt, resting his head on his shoulder. Kurt’s black cashmere sweater was soft and warm on his cheek. Blaine read through some of the information in the folder, and one particular item caught his eye. “The cabin has an outdoor hot tub, Kurt. We could go in a hot tub in the snow. In the snow!” He opened up the next flyer, finding even more goodies. “And there’s a fire pit at the lodge with s’mores in the afternoons.”

Kurt’s eyes were alight with excitement. “That sounds wonderful.” But then he closed the folder and sighed. “Carole did have a point, though. If we stay home, we can celebrate the New Year with all our friends. Who knows when we’ll have a chance to do that again?”

“True.” Blaine could practically see the gears turning in Kurt’s head, so he waited, letting him finish his thought.

“But it’s not as if we haven’t seen plenty of Rachel and Sam these past few months. And we’ll probably see them on Christmas.”

“True.”

“And Tina’s only going to be here until the twenty-eighth – she’s got to go back to Brown to get ready for her a capella group’s performance.”

“True.”

“Mercedes isn’t coming to Lima at all, and Santana and Brittany are going on a cruise with their parents.”

“True.”

Kurt faked a glare at him and Blaine laughed. “What?”

“Say something else besides ‘true.””

“Like what?”

“Answer the question.”

“What question, husband?” Blaine leaned in and kissed Kurt softly, letting his lips trail from Kurt’s mouth down to his jaw. 

Kurt leaned back and sighed. “You’re impossible.”

Blaine let his hand slide down Kurt’s side, slowing it just as he reached his waist. “You mean do I want to go on a fantastically romantic get-away with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met, to celebrate our first New Year’s Eve as husbands alone together, or stay in Lima with Rachel and Sam and watch the ball drop on the television in my basement?” Blaine gently pushed at Kurt’s sweater until he could get his hand under it, Kurt grinning at Blaine as he moved to straddle him on the couch.

“Okay, when you put it that way, it’s hardly a question at all, is it?” Kurt said, cupping Blaine’s ass with his hands and pulling him tight against him. “Fireworks, here we come!”


	18. Regret

_December, 2014_

Blaine is curled up on the couch, dozing with his earbuds in his ears, when he feels Kurt sit down next to him.

“Hey husband,” he says, blinking his eyes open. It’s barely dinnertime but it’s dim in their apartment, their holiday lights casting a soft glow over the room. 

Kurt smiles fondly at him. “Was your rehearsal with the kids that tiring? I thought you might hang around and go to that yoga class downtown with me.”

“Oh, um, no, no yoga for me today.” Blaine pushes himself up to sit next to Kurt, grimacing.

“Blaine?” Kurt is looking at him curiously. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just a little bruised.” The “little” may be an understatement.

But Kurt jumps to the wrong conclusion and his eyes widen. “Blaine, what happened? Are you hurt?”

“No, nothing bad, not really. I just… fell.”

Kurt presses his lips together. He can always tell when Blaine isn’t giving him the whole story. “Fell? Where?”

“On the stage.” Sort of. At least at first. Before he went over the edge.

“On the stage?” Kurt puts his hands on Blaine’s shoulders, runs them down his arms, as if he is checking for injuries. He gets to Blaine’s right elbow and Blaine can’t help but react. 

“Ow-ow-ow…. yeah, well, kind of… off the stage.”

Kurt is now having trouble keeping his concerned face on, a glimmer of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You fell off the stage.”

“Yeah.”

“How, exactly, did you manage that?” Kurt’s words may be teasing, but his touch is soft, as he pulls Blaine against him and wraps an arm around his shoulders, avoiding his sore elbow.

“Mason and Madison are doing a number with some fairly extensive choreography, and they wanted to work Jane into it. So the twins were dancing, and Jane and I were trying to watch them, and figure out a routine for her, and…” Blaine shrugs. “There I went.”

“What happened to pacing off the stage before a performance so you don’t make this mistake?” Kurt says with a hint of humor in his voice. Kurt has commented on this practice of his many times, claiming that he’s thinking too hard, that he just needs to let the performance happen. An ironic comment, coming from his husband, who never performs unrehearsed.

“Guess I forgot.” 

Kurt stands up, holding out a hand to Blaine, who takes it and lets Kurt pull him to his feet with a groan. “You’re going to regret that tomorrow when we go ice skating with Sam and Rachel.” Kurt slings an arm around his waist, presses a soft kiss to his cheek. His lips are soft against his skin. “And even more when you find out what I had planned for tonight.”

The way Kurt is looking at him leaves no doubt that Kurt isn’t talking about the yoga class. 

“I’m not that banged up, Kurt, really.” He steps away from Kurt, doing a tentative spin that only pulls a little bit at the hip that hit the floor when he fell. “See? No injuries. Good as new.”

Later that night, after Blaine proved to Kurt that he was, in fact, mostly not injured (there was a brief moment when Kurt grabbed at his ass and Blaine yelped so loudly their neighbors probably got worried), they sat at their kitchen table, freshly showered and wearing their matching pajamas. It was as cute a scene as Kurt was ever likely to allow to happen, and Blaine was strictly forbidden from taking photos, a decision by Kurt made only after Blaine had taken one and posted it on Facebook the first time they wore them. And Facebook is forever, so that picture isn’t going away.

They’ve ransacked the refrigerator for leftovers, coming up with cheese, crackers, and a few apples, one of which is as bruised as Blaine’s backside. But there are still a few cookies left from the batch they made to bring to school, cute little raspberry thumbprints like the ones Pam always makes for Blaine on his birthday. Their conversation has come to a not entirely comfortable stop, and Kurt is staring over Blaine’s shoulder, a distracted look in his eyes.

“You should have seen Mason during this dance routine,” Blaine says. “He picked Madison up and tossed her clear across the auditorium into the balcony. It’s like he was channeling Tom Brady.”

Kurt looks briefly at Blaine and then away again. “That’s good.”

Blaine lets out a little laugh. Kurt clearly isn’t listening to him. “Kurt, where’d you go?”

He shakes his head and focuses on Blaine. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

“About what?”

Kurt stands up and starts clearing their dinner, rinsing the plates and putting them in the dishwasher. “It’s all right. I’ve been thinking about it all day, I’m tired of it already.”

Blaine wonders if Kurt had dragged him into the bedroom earlier to distract himself from whatever was bothering him. Not that he minded, but…

“If you were thinking about it all day, it must be serious.” 

Kurt shrugs.

“Well, if you want to talk about it, I’m here.” Blaine stands up, frowning at the pain in his side, and they finish cleaning up together. A few more minutes pass in silence, and Blaine is fine with this. Kurt is getting better at sharing, but it’s okay for him to have his own thoughts, too. Blaine just hopes that if those thoughts have turned into worries, Kurt will let him help.

Blaine is limping over to the couch when Kurt speaks up from the kitchen. “What if I’m doing the wrong thing?”

“What do you mean?” This doesn’t seem like it’s about the two of them, but a tiny spark of fear prickles his skin regardless.

Kurt pours them each half a glass of wine and brings it over to where Blaine has gingerly set himself down. Apparently vigorous sex wasn’t the best way to recover from his fall.

“My play didn’t get picked for the NYADA spring festival.” Kurt’s face is studiously neutral, but Blaine knows how much he wanted this. How excited he was to have his play performed.

“Kurt, I’m so sorry.” He pulls Kurt into a sideways hug, which Kurt accepts, turning to look at him.

“I really thought it would win. Madam Tibideaux was so encouraging.” He drinks down the wine, putting the empty glass on the coffee table and gazing at it. “But apparently it just sucked.”

“Kurt, it does not suck. It’s a really good play, whatever NYADA says.” Blaine has plenty of experience with reminding himself that NYADA’s opinion doesn’t actually make that much of a difference.

“You’re not an expert, how do you know?”

Blaine ignores the harsh undertone to Kurt’s comment. “Well, let’s get it in front of some experts.”

“What?” Kurt is looking at him like he’s crazy.

“I think it’s a good play. It’s clever, and creative, and full of witty dialogue. But it’s your first attempt at something like this. Let’s show it to some people who know what they’re doing and get you some feedback. Constructive criticism, even.”

“I’m not great with feedback,” Kurt mumbles, leaning into Blaine and taking his hand. “But that’s a good idea. Who would we ask?”

Blaine shrugs. “There must be professors at NYADA who would read it for you, to start. And they probably know other playwrights who might be willing to give you their thoughts. Wasn’t your stage manager from the show you did last year a dramaturge?”

“But what if I’m just not meant to be a writer? The only way I’m going to have good parts is if I write them, and if I can’t write them, where does that leave me?” Kurt is pouting, and it would be adorable if he wasn’t so sad.

Blaine puts his own glass down on the table and takes both Kurt’s hands in his. “What’s brought this on? Just the thing with the play?”

“I don’t know. This semester, working with Glee club… all these kids, thinking they’re going to make it on Broadway. But how many of them are going to invest four years in a theater degree and then just wind up as real estate agents, or bus drivers?”

“You don’t really think you’ll end up as a bus driver, do you? There are plenty of things you can do with a theater degree. Get involved on the production side, or teach, or do something else creative.”

“I don’t know… aren’t you worried sometimes that we’re putting all this effort into a dream that might not ever work out?” Kurt sighs. “I know I’m being a bit glass half empty right now, I’m just in a mood.”

“It’s okay, I get it.” And he does.

Kurt shuffles back against the arm of the couch and pulls Blaine up against him, his back to Kurt’s chest. They turn on the television, Kurt mindlessly switching channels until he finds a holiday baking show. The contestants are supposed to be creating holiday themed cupcakes. As always, some turn out quite a bit better than others.

“What if I’m like that cupcake,” Kurt says, when a lopsided honey cupcake with unfortunately melted red swirls is deemed the worst of the group.

“Kurt, no one would ever say you are like that cupcake,” Blaine says. “In fact, I think you’re much more like that one.” It is a deep chocolate cake with lavender infused filling, topped with gravity-defying frosting just tinged with purple and bright shining silver filigree. It wins the competition. “But I’m guessing the cook that just won didn’t make such a masterpiece the first time around.”

Kurt harrumphs. “So you’re saying that I should keep trying with the play.”

“Mmm. It’s very special, expert advice. I might even charge you for it.” Blaine turns to see Kurt, his side twinging as he does. “But you know, I love you no matter which cupcake you are.”

Kurt blushes, shaking his head at Blaine. “You would like the sad, dejected honey cupcake.”

“I think the red stuff kind of looks like a bowtie, doesn’t it?”

Kurt laughs. “Now you’re just reaching.”

“Fine. But my point still stands. Sad or sparkling, imperfect or polished, you will always be my favorite cupcake.” Blaine plants a wet, sloppy kiss on Kurt’s lips, and when he pulls back, there’s a bright smile on Kurt’s face. Blaine warms with affection and leans in to kiss his husband again, and again. He may be a bit of a lopsided cupcake himself, but as long as he and Kurt can keep working on their recipe, he thinks they’ll be all right.


	19. Shift

_December, 2014_

They take the New Directions caroling in downtown Lima. Everyone is high with the knowledge that there are only a few days left of school until Christmas, and those will mostly be filled with parties and gift exchanges and teachers who are just as uninterested in doing anything strenuous right now as their students are. Kitty has found them all matching red scarves, and the tassels flutter in the wind as the group finishes up in front of a shoe store and heads down to the gazebo in the park.

Blaine’s cheeks are almost as bright as his scarf, and Kurt takes a moment to admire him, handsome as always in his navy peacoat, tight crimson pants and leather ankle boots. He’s got a red and blue beanie on his head to keep his ears warm, and it makes him look different, his gelled hair hidden away. Somehow his honey eyes look even brighter.

Blaine had teased Kurt about letting his beard grow out a little to fend off the cold, and when Kurt sees Sam, three or four days of scruff gracing his cheeks, he thinks he knows where Blaine got the idea. Blaine and Sam are both happy tonight, that silly kind of nothing-can-bother-me happiness they get when they are together and making music. Kurt sees this now, in a way he used to feel jealous of back when they were all living in the loft. He’s not proud of it, but there’s a part of him that wishes he could be everything for Blaine, even while he knows he’s the same way. They both need to have other friends, Sam and Rachel and Tina and Elliott and hopefully many more as the years go on, and that’s okay. It will help them keep their balance.

The group follows up “Shalom Chaverim” (they sing it in unison once through, then break into rounds; it sounds lovely) with “Jingle Bell Rock,” always a crowd pleaser and their last number of the night. There are a few places where someone always gets the words wrong (it’s “jingle bell swing and jingle bell ring,” then in the next verse, “jingle bells chime in jingle bell time,”) but Kurt doesn’t hear any obvious mistakes tonight. He’s proud of this group of kids, who have really come together in a way that didn’t seem very likely a few months ago. 

As they finish up (Sam contributing a last “oh yeah,” to the tag), Kurt expects Rachel to lead them all off in the direction of the local ice cream parlor, but instead the members of the group are shifting around, Mason, Madison, and Jane and a few of the Warbler boys rearranging themselves. Sam and Rachel exchange a look and come over to where Kurt is standing, pulling him out of the group, as Kurt hears an a capella intro to a familiar holiday song.

Blaine steps forward, gazes around the assembled audience, and then lets his eyes land on Kurt, smiling as he begins to sing. “I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need. I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree.” He’s throwing his whole self into it, as always, and Kurt’s heart leaps in his chest. “I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Make my wish come true, oh-oh, all I want for Christmas, is you.”

Blaine’s back-up singers start in with a little dance and sway, and Kurt feels his face warm despite the cold as Blaine continues the song. Rachel and Sam are standing on either side of him, and he feels Rachel rest her head on his shoulder. There’s really nothing that compares to being serenaded by his husband, Kurt thinks. From the moment “Teenage Dream” came out of this boy’s mouth, Kurt’s been his.

Blaine gets to the end, approaching Kurt as he sings, over and over, “All I want for Christmas is you, oo-oo, baby,” and then beams at Kurt as the group sings their final notes. Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s shoulders, and Blaine melts against him.

“Did you like it?”

Kurt sniffs against Blaine’s head. Blaine’s capacity for self-doubt is endless, but he supposes at this point he understands it. “Of course I liked it. I loved it.” He pulls back and sees that Blaine is on the verge of tears. “Honey, you okay?” 

Blaine nods and buries his face against Kurt’s neck. Over Blaine’s shoulder, Kurt sees most of the group heading off up the street, but Sam and Rachel stay nearby, grabbing Mason and Madison too. The middle of a public park in Lima isn’t the safest place for two gay kids to be embracing. Not that New York is perfect, either, but the shift necessary in his behavior since returning to the midwest is something that is always in the back of Kurt’s mind.

Kurt just holds Blaine for a moment, rubbing his back and kissing his cheek. “I love you,” he says softly.

“Love you too.” Blaine sniffles and picks his head up. His eyelashes are wet. “I’m sorry, I’m just… emotional, I guess.” He raises a hand to Kurt’s shoulder, wipes at the spot where his tears fell. “It’s true, though – the song. I honestly don’t care about anything else, now that I have you.”

“Me too, husband. Me too.” 

*****  
It’s more than an hour later, and they are sitting in a booth, empty ice cream dishes in front of them. Kurt is next to the wall with Blaine on his other side, Madison and Skylar across the table (Skylar has dressed down tonight, abandoning his blazer for once), and Kitty on the end. Kitty keeps getting up and down from the table, working the room like the good team captain she is. For the past little while Blaine and Madison have been involved in a discussion of jazz and rock and roll and something about whether it would be fun to go to college in New Orleans; Kurt hasn’t really been following.

Kurt feels a little guilty for not participating more – it’s his job, after all – but frankly he’s had enough socializing for one day. There’s really only one person he wants to be with right now.

Blaine has shed his winter coat, and is looking particularly delicious in a simple crew neck sweater with wide blue and white horizontal stripes. It does wonderful things for his shoulders, Kurt thinks. Things he would like to explore more closely. He lets his hand rest gently on Blaine’s thigh, and slowly begins to trace the inseam of Blaine’s red jeans with his fingers. 

Kurt can feel the moment that Blaine realizes what’s going on – his breath changes ever so slightly, although he keeps up the conversation with Madison. After a few minutes of this, though, as Kurt moves his hand just a bit higher up Blaine’s leg, he shifts in his seat, takes a deep breath in, and interrupts whatever Skylar is saying (most of his comments seem to be heartfelt agreement with Madison, so it’s no great loss).

“Um, that’s awesome, guys, we’ll see you tomorrow?”

Kitty shoots Blaine a sharp look. Maybe that wasn’t Blaine’s smoothest segue, but it wasn’t that obvious, was it?

But Kurt sees the look on Blaine’s face as they slide out of the booth – cheeks red and eyes dark – and he figures Kitty may be on to them. No matter.

Hours later they are curled up together under the blankets, naked and still a bit sticky despite their clean-up efforts. Blaine is softly humming “All I Want for Christmas is You” to Kurt, making up different lyrics and nonsense rhymes as he strokes patterns on Kurt’s chest. He goes quiet, then, raising up on an elbow to find Kurt’s eyes. “It’s true, you know.”

Kurt smiles at him, feeling his heart give a little flip. “I know, sweetheart. You said that before.”

“No, I mean I did, but…” Blaine rolls his eyes, sags back against Kurt. “I have a confession to make.”

“Oh?”

“You’re going to be mad at me.” Kurt raises an eyebrow. “I mean, it’s just that it’s really true for me, you’re all I want, and we’ve gotten all those wedding presents…”

Suddenly Kurt freezes. Does Blaine know? How can he know that Kurt hasn’t bought him a Christmas present yet? He had sworn Rachel to secrecy during their last brainstorming session, and despite Rachel’s faults, he doesn’t think she would have let this slip.

“And I just couldn’t think of anything that would be special enough for you,” Blaine goes on, “not after all we’ve gone through lately.”

Kurt sighs in relief. Blaine doesn’t know – he just hasn’t gotten anything for him, either, for exactly the same reason Kurt couldn’t come up with anything good enough. Tickets to a show or a cashmere sweater just don’t seem capable of expressing everything that he feels for Blaine right now. He doesn’t think that anything can. “It’s okay, I totally get it.”

“You do?”

“I do. I haven’t gotten you anything, either,” Kurt admits.

Blaine sits up, the blanket falling to his waist. “Really? That’s great!”

“It is?” Understandable, maybe, but great?

“Yes!” Blaine leans in and kisses Kurt, missing his lips just a bit, then bounces back up again. “Now my idea will work.”

Kurt tugs Blaine against him, rolls his body against his husband’s, and slides his hands around to feel the muscles in his back. “What’s this idea?”

Blaine takes Kurt’s hand, strokes the ring on his finger. “I thought we’d get our rings engraved. I talked to Jan, and if we let her know in advance, she can do the engraving while we wait.”

“That’s actually a wonderful idea.” Kurt hooks his ankle over Blaine’s leg, pulling them closer. “What should we get on them? Do you want it to be a surprise?”

Blaine shrugged. “I don’t know. What do you want?”

“I asked you first. And it was your idea.”

Blaine’s hands have stopped roaming over Kurt’s body. He’s feeling shy, Kurt can tell. Blaine still isn’t completely comfortable with Kurt again, not yet. “I don’t know.”

Kurt presses a soft, gentle kiss to his husband’s lips, a hand to the back of his head to hold him close. “If you had a dream – a good dream – and in that dream, I got our rings engraved for us, what would they say?”

“Kurt and Blaine forever,” Blaine whispers quickly into Kurt’s ear.

“That sounds perfect to me,” Kurt replies, hugging Blaine close. Spending forever with the love of his life was definitely at the top of Kurt’s list, for Christmas and always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Blaine sings is, of course, "All I Want for Christmas is You" by Mariah Carey. I would have loved to have seen Blaine sing this to Kurt... or vice versa.


	20. Time

_December, 2014_

Kurt is in their closet, rummaging around for the right sized bag to pack up their things to go to Lima for a few days. They’re going to spend the night before Christmas Eve at Pam’s, and then Christmas Eve at his parents’ house. But if they want to put all the presents in the luggage they need a bigger suitcase; maybe they should just put their clothes in a duffel and carry the presents separately?

Kurt decides to hunt down that leather trimmed bag his father gave him last year, and it’s when he’s trying to slide it out from under some box that he had brought home from the loft that he sees it. It’s a nondescript black backpack, the same kind that millions of college students fill with books and assignments every day. But this one is Blaine’s. It’s the bag he packed immediately after Kurt broke off the engagement.

Kurt’s first thought is to call out to Blaine, but he’s not home. In the middle of wrapping presents they had run out of scotch tape, and he’s gone out to the store to buy some more. His curiosity getting the better of him, Kurt pulls out the backpack and sets it on the bed, unzipping it carefully. 

Inside are a few rumpled shirts – that crazy pink plaid one that Kurt hasn’t seen in months, and a dark red polo. A pair of jeans, a sweater, and some briefs are crammed in as well. And in the bottom, a Dalton shirt rolled up around it to keep it safe, is Margaret Thatcher Dog.

Kurt’s chest clenches as his eyes fill with tears. Blaine loved that silly little stuffed animal Kurt gave him after his senior skip day at McKinley. He had kept it in a place of honor in his bedroom, and then brought it with him when he moved to New York. Mostly it was hidden in a dresser drawer in the loft – it was a rare college boy that admitted to having stuffed animals – but Kurt had seen Blaine notice it from time to time, give it a little hug and whisper something in its fluffy ear, and then set it back into its tiny nest made of pajamas and socks.

Kurt sits on the bed, holding the little dog on his lap, and thinks. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and texts Blaine. _Husband, would you mind getting something for dinner while you’re out? Maybe something light, given all we’re going to be eating in the next few days?_

It’s a few minutes before Blaine responds. _Sorry, got distracted by shiny wrapping paper. Thought it would look nice on that package for my mom. Yes, will get healthy food, good idea._

By the time Blaine texts him again, Kurt has thrown in a load of laundry, mostly his own clothes along with the crunched up items from the backpack. He is looking through a bag of fabric scraps when his phone dings.

_Salmon, or shrimp? Or they have that cod rolled around the crabmeat stuffing. You pick._

Excellent, he’s still at the store, Kurt thinks. _The cod, of course. Broccoli too?_

They continue texting menu ideas to each other while Kurt moves the clothes into the dryer, and when he’s done talking with Blaine, he pulls out a needle and thread.

That night, after a delicious and mostly healthy dinner (they had splurged on a small loaf of fresh French bread from the bakery down the street, but buying the batard instead of the long baguette gave them some sense of portion control), Blaine heads for the shower while Kurt digs out his travel list, making sure he has everything they’ll need. His dad never seems to keep enough fresh spices on hand to make a proper holiday dinner, so he packs up a few of theirs in a plastic container and sets it by the door. Then he checks on Blaine’s progress (still singing in the shower – plenty of time), puts away the laundry, and makes a few additional preparations. 

He is sitting cross-legged in front of the tree when Blaine comes out into the living room, freshly washed curls dripping down onto a snugly fitting Dalton t-shirt. “Kurt – where did you find this? I haven’t seen it in ages.”

Blaine’s smiling, tugging at the hem of his shirt, as he plops down next to Kurt, his sleep pants pulling up over his ankles as he crosses his legs. Kurt watches as he spots Margaret Thatcher Dog under the tree, dressed up for the holidays with a festive green and silver bowtie. Blaine reaches in to pick him up, cradling the stuffed animal against his chest, and his face is solemn as he turns to Kurt. He’s remembering that night, the shock and the pain, and it hurts.

Kurt holds an arm out, and Blaine leans in to the hug, the little toy trapped between them. “Kurt…” Blaine says, his voice tight with emotion.

Kurt holds him tight, rests his forehead against his husband’s. “I thought it was time you unpacked.”


	21. Underneath

_December, 2014_

_A series of texts between Burt and Kurt._

From Dad: You guys home?

From Kurt: Yes.

From Dad: Not occupied?

From Kurt: Is that supposed to be a euphemism for something?

From Dad: Don’t get cute with me, kiddo.

From Kurt: We’re on the couch, watching television.

From Dad: Not sure that answers my question.

From Kurt: Ignoring you. What’s going on?

From Dad: Just wanted to give you a heads up.

From Kurt: About what?

From Dad: Can’t tell you.

From Kurt: That’s incredibly helpful.

From Dad: Let’s just say that not all of Blaine’s presents are going to be underneath the tree.

From Kurt: You already told us about the ski trip, Dad (and we are quite excited, thank you again!!)

From Dad: That’s not it.

From Kurt: Well, what is it?

From Dad: I promised I’d keep it a surprise.

From Kurt: Then why bother texting me?

From Dad: Just wanted you boys to be prepared.

From Kurt: Not that I don’t appreciate the theoretical heads up (and your texting has gotten much faster, by the way) but how can we be prepared if we don’t know what for?

From Dad: Beats me. Maybe put some beer in the fridge?

From Kurt: We don’t have any beer. Would a fruity merlot do?

From Dad: Your call, kid. Gotta go – game’s on.  
*****

From Kurt: So how did you know about this particular surprise, anyway?

From Dad: He called me. Didn’t know your new address.

From Kurt: And you couldn’t tell me? I can keep a secret.

From Dad: Not gonna go there. 

From Kurt: Low blow.

From Dad: Anyway, he wanted it to be a surprise for both of you.

From Kurt: It was definitely a surprise. Mission accomplished.

From Dad: How did it go? Blaine okay?

From Kurt: Yeah, he’s pretty happy. And you shouldn’t have worried – Cooper brought his own beer.


	22. Vow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter mentions Blaine and Dave dating. If that bothers you, don't read it.

December, 2014

Pam hauls the vacuum cleaner around the corner into Blaine’s bedroom. Blaine and Kurt are coming to stay for the night, and the room has gotten a little musty over the past few months since Blaine moved out again. She wants it to be nice for them.

She’s pleased that they are going to spend some time at her house, even if it’s just the night before Christmas Eve and part of Christmas Eve day. She had been worried that now that they were married – and especially since Blaine’s dad had fled the jurisdiction – that all celebrations would now take place at the Hudson-Hummel’s home, with its ever-accepting, easy-going atmosphere. Not that she doesn’t like Burt and Carole, of course; in fact, they have been nicer to her than she could have imagined, and Carole’s got a sassy streak that is quite a lot of fun. But this is her home, and Blaine’s home. They’ve spent a whole lifetime of holidays here, and she’s not quite ready to give that up.

Pam drags the vacuum cleaner back and forth over the rug, thinking about what it must be like for Blaine and Kurt now. Newly married, just starting out. She pats down the bed, straightening out the already perfectly neat bedspread. At least _this_ part of the relationship isn’t brand new for them, she considers with a smirk, wondering just how many times the boys had enjoyed each other’s company in Blaine’s bed. But it’s probably different now that they are actually married.

She remembers what it was like for her, when she married Blaine’s dad. It hadn’t been their first time on their wedding night, it wasn’t the dark ages back then or anything, but something about it had felt new. Like the safe space her husband was for her became even safer, even more secure. The vows they had taken had reached so deeply into them both, she felt it everywhere. Pam wondered when that feeling had started to fade. Certainly long before her husband’s recent departure.

Finishing up with the vacuum, Pam moves to dust the dresser and night table. There are photographs of Kurt there that seem to have become part of the room’s permanent décor. She’s not even sure Blaine put them away when he was dating Dave – frankly, she’s not sure Dave ever came up to Blaine’s bedroom, now that she thinks about it. Of course, she wasn’t always around, and she wasn’t trying to spy on them, or anything. But she had been worried, no question, when her emotionally wrung out son came home with the news that he was now dating David Karofsky. 

They had all gone out to dinner shortly afterwards, and Pam had satisfied herself as best she could that Dave wasn’t trying to pull one over on Blaine. Blaine could be oblivious at times, bless his tender heart, and he wasn’t exactly in the most stable frame of mind right then. But it looked to her that Dave was sincerely fond of Blaine, gentle and sweet to him, with just a tad of the unfamiliar in the way he teased Blaine about his music choices and slim figure. Blaine didn’t always seem elated to be with Dave, but he didn’t seem nervous, or scared. And in the end, it wasn’t really any of her business.

When she heard Kurt was back in Lima (a fact she had to drag out of Blaine like pulling teeth – he was so obviously preoccupied, clearly _something_ was going on) Pam had thought the thing with Dave would end instantly, and Blaine would throw himself back into Kurt’s arms at his earliest opportunity. She was a little impressed with her son, frankly, that matters took a different path. She held out some hope that the therapist Blaine had been seeing had done some good, had helped him to feel more independent of Kurt, more sure of himself. Because no matter how much you love someone – and she never doubted that Blaine loved Kurt, not for a minute – you have to be able to stand on your own. And she thought Blaine was figuring that out.

She sees the way Kurt looks at Blaine, now, a combination of all the most precious moments the two of them have shared over the years, but amplified. It’s as if Kurt has learned the opposite lesson, that a life lived together with someone you love is richer than the alternative, even if it’s quite a bit harder. Maybe the two boys have finally met in the middle.

She sprays some cleaner on the glass covering the wedding photograph of Kurt and Blaine, polishes it dry, and sets it back down in its place of honor on Blaine’s dresser. They are a good looking couple, their faces full of love for each other, the depth of their affection shining in their eyes even more striking than their miraculously well fitting surprise wedding suits. So what if they are starting off their married life together just a tiny bit bruised. Nothing really worth doing is ever easy.


	23. Wish

December, 2014

Blaine snuggles closer to Kurt, not wanting to get up yet. It’s Christmas morning, his very first Christmas as a married man, as Kurt’s husband, and he’s halfway afraid that the reality won’t match up to the expectation. But so far, despite the unquestionable risk they took getting married on the spur of the moment, life as a married man has been working out pretty darn well. At least, he thinks that it has.

He doesn’t have any reason to believe that Kurt isn’t happy too, it’s just a niggling insecurity that still dwells in his chest, no matter how many times he tries to tell himself it isn’t necessary any more. He believes it will go away with time, with nights spent together with Kurt, curled up together in bed and on the couch, and days spent each pursuing their dreams and then coming home to each other to share in their accomplishments and setbacks. He’s still a little nervous, but he’s learning to have faith in them.

Blaine tries to make out Kurt’s face, next to him on the pillow, but the room is still too dark. Kurt’s arm is slung around his waist, and Blaine runs a finger feather-light up to his shoulder. Kurt hums and moves closer, tucking his face into the space between Blaine’s chin and his chest. Certainly Kurt is the picture of contentment. They both are, wearing their matching pajama pants and warm sweatshirts. 

They’re at Kurt’s house, really Burt and Carole’s house now, where the Christmas day festivities will take place. Pam and Cooper are going to join them for a lazy breakfast, and then more friends and family will arrive later in the afternoon for dinner. Kurt had been a little bit stressed out last night, not wanting to go to sleep until all of his recipes were lined up and ingredients found, the pots and pans arranged, and the frittata assembled and ready to go in the oven. Blaine had set the table, following Kurt’s direction, and laughed as Burt poked fun at them for over-preparing.

“It’s just breakfast, kiddo,” Burt said gruffly, giving them each a quick hug before heading up to bed. “I’m not even planning on getting dressed,” he teased.

Blaine had more than met his quota of two batches of cookies per year in the past week, making old family favorites and hunting down some new ones. Kurt loves the espresso crinkles, and the hazelnut shortbread with chocolate drizzle. His mom is partial to fudge, so he made two different kinds, and Carole likes toffee… luckily no one at McKinley was interested in working late these past few days, so he had plenty of time to bake. His mouth is starting to water just thinking about the artfully arranged platters of treats they’ll bring out this afternoon.

Kurt stirs, but doesn’t wake. Blaine tugs the blanket up a little higher over them both, content to doze for a while more. Next month they’ll be moving back to New York City, and life will become busy again. They’ve made a list of things they plan on doing differently, including having regular check-ins to make sure they’re paying attention to the list. It seems a bit formulaic to Blaine, but he knows Kurt thrives on control and order. Besides, it’s a lot better than the alternative – leaving the success of their relationship to chance, untethered and liable to be tossed about on the waves of chaotic college life.

Blaine shakes his head, smiling at his internal dramatic meanderings. He’s just about to fall back to sleep when Kurt shifts, pressing a good morning kiss to his cheek and then slipping out of bed, mumbling something familiar about the bathroom. When he returns to bed, his feet are icy cold, and he wastes no time in sliding them under Blaine’s calves, using his toes to push up Blaine’s pajama pants and tickle his legs.

“You know what?” Kurt says, his mouth tasting like toothpaste as he gives Blaine another kiss. “It’s Christmas.”

Blaine smiles, rubs his nose against Kurt’s. “Merry Christmas, husband.”

“Merry Christmas, husband.” Kurt sneaks in another kiss. “I can’t believe we’re married.”

Blaine huffs out a laugh against Kurt’s cheek. “I know. Me too.”

“Not that I’m not glad,” Kurt rushes to say. “It’s just…”

“You wish you had a do-over?” Blaine isn’t insulted. Their wedding was kind of crazy, by anyone’s standard. And he is ninety-nine percent sure that Kurt doesn’t regret _being_ married. He just wouldn’t have done it last minute, if he had had the chance.

“Not exactly.” Kurt sits up. The cold morning light is seeping in around the curtains, and Blaine can see a thoughtful expression on Kurt’s face. “Oh, fuck it,” Kurt says suddenly, slipping out from under the covers and on to the floor.

“Kurt? Did you drop something?”

“Shut up and give me a minute.” Kurt arranges himself carefully, down on one knee, head held high and proud. “Take my hand.”

Blaine sits up on his knees and complies, feeling a smile stretching across his face. 

“If you must know, part of my ‘coming back to Lima to woo you’ plan was a Christmas proposal. So here goes.” Kurt straightens his back and gazes at Blaine, his blue eyes sparkling. “Blaine Devon Anderson, remarkably, we’re already married. Apparently the last seven weeks of being married hasn’t made you change your mind,” he pauses, and Blaine shakes his head firmly back and forth, “so it’s looking good from here on out. I lost my chance to propose to you for real, but I promise you, I wish nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. You are the one, the love of my life, and, as far as I’m concerned, the best thing that ever happened to me. So Blaine, my one true love, my husband, will you stay married to me?”

Kurt’s hair is mussed from bed, and there’s a crease on his cheek from the pillow. He’s the most delightful creature that Blaine has ever seen. “I will,” Blaine says, letting go of Kurt’s hand and pulling his wedding ring off his finger. He peers inside at the inscription for a moment, then holds out the ring and grins at Kurt. “See? Forever.” 

Blaine slides off the bed and pulls Kurt into a kiss, both of them smiling so much it’s hardly a kiss, but it lights up his insides nonetheless. 

“A Christmas proposal would have been awesome,” Blaine says, letting Kurt slide his ring back on to his finger and wiggling his eyebrows. “But now, maybe we have time for something else?”

Kurt gives Blaine his “we’re in my father’s house” look and stands up, reaching down to tug Blaine along with him. “We’ll be home tonight, sweetie,” he says, swinging his hips as he leads them towards the door. “But there’s something else we can do now.”

Blaine follows Kurt down the hall, noting that someone has already put on Christmas music downstairs. “What’s that?”

“Steal some of the Christmas cookies before my dad eats all the good ones.”

They do just that, sitting cross-legged in front of the fire, a pile of cookies and cups of tea between them, and Blaine thinks that he couldn’t possibly have wished for a better Christmas.


	24. Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt and Blaine’s first winter holidays together as a married couple fall so quickly after their wedding that sometimes they almost seem like a continuation of their honeymoon. But not always.
> 
> A story in the “Season 7” series that looks at events in the early married life of Kurt and Blaine, written in connection with the 2016 Klaine Advent challenge. The name of each chapter is the prompt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! 24 chapters in 24 days, whew. This story is now complete, except for a coda I hope to post in the next few days. Many, many thanks to all who supported me with lovely comments and encouragement, especially my beta (although not for this crazy fic) perry_avenue. Best wishes to you all for a joyous holiday season and a very happy new year!
> 
>  
> 
> And now... this chapter is in the spirit of “’Twas the Night Before Christmas” by Clement Clark Moore.

_December, 2014_

‘Tis the evening of Christmas, and all through the houses,  
Everyone is peaceful, from students to spouses.  
The stockings are gathered in boxes and piles,  
Their treats now dispersed, with giggles and smiles.

Burt and his wife are snug in their bed,  
While visions of the past fill Carole’s head.  
Despite trying to soak up the season’s joy  
All she can feel is the loss of her boy.

Pam goes to sleep in her bed alone,  
But no longer as worried for her son that’s come home.  
He’s off to start a new phase of his life  
With a partner to help him through troubles and strife.

Across town Rachel Berry dreams of singing on stages,  
And Sam Evans still thinks that NYADA’s for mages.  
Mason and Madison stay up late corresponding  
With the rest of their team to encourage more bonding.

Competition awaits for the New Directions, freshly merged,  
They’ll battle united, as their handsome coaches have urged:  
Run the race together and you all will be stronger.  
Their team is one now, divided no longer.

Miles away Kurt and Blaine are curled up in their bed,  
While dreams of life as husbands dance in their heads.  
Their Honeymoon Holidays have been mostly romantic.  
Though they faced some challenges, none were gigantic.

They’ve learned valuable lessons over the years,  
And will keep learning more, despite heartache and tears.  
They’ll move past their yesterdays, face all their foes,  
Help one another through good times and woes.

In the quiet warmth of their bedroom, only half awake,  
They whisper of things they will do and paths they will take.  
And one says to the other, as he turns off the light,  
“Merry Christmas, my husband. I love you. Good night.”


	25. Coda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt and Blaine’s first winter holidays together as a married couple fall so quickly after their wedding that sometimes they almost seem like a continuation of their honeymoon. But not always.
> 
> A story in the “Season 7” series that looks at events in the early married life of Kurt and Blaine, written in connection with the Klaine Advent challenge. The name of each chapter is the prompt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last chapter is just a bit of fun, not really a part of the main story. Hope you enjoy – and happy new year!

_Sometime in the future..._

“And then it ends with a poem, summing it all up.” He clears his throat and reads.

“In the quiet warmth of their bedroom, only half awake,  
They whisper of things they will do and paths they will take.  
And one says to the other, as he turns off the light,  
‘Merry Christmas, my husband. I love you. Good night.’”

Artie sets down his papers, squares his shoulders and looks around the room. He’s barely had time to take a breath before the comments start flying from the suited people at the conference table.

“Wait a minute, I’m confused,” a tall man says, standing up to make his point. “Are we supposed to believe this really happened?”

“It’s fiction, you idiot,” his neighbor says, taking off her glasses and wiping them with her scarf. “although still pretty unbelievable.”

“Did they break up twice, or three times?” The curly haired woman is counting on her well-manicured fingers. “In high school, in college… twice?”

A dark skinned woman with a fabulous hat speaks up next. “I like the premise, but a lot of it seems too far-fetched. What’s the chance they’d really stay together after all that?”

“I still think it’s too unbelievable,” the first woman says, putting her glasses back on. “Why did they even break up again?”

“You mean the first time or the second time?”

“Cheating, I think, and then intimacy problems.”

“Intimacy problems?” the woman with the hat asks. “That’s what’s unbelievable. They were plenty intimate.”

“Not that kind of intimacy,” tall man mutters.

“It’s definitely not credible, but not for any of these reasons.” An older man speaks up for the first time, waving his hand for emphasis. “Maybe if you set it on the East Coast, or in the future, but not in the Midwest in present day. There’s no way two gay young people would have been out together in the Midwest like that. They’d get the shit beat out of them.”

“They did, didn’t they? Or was that in private school?”

“No, before the private school. But then again in New York,” a bored looking man adds.

“What I don’t understand is why, after escaping that hellhole small town, they both end up back there again?”

“Pay more attention, Anita,” the tall man scolds. “One kid got kicked out of school for being depressed, and the other one followed him.”

“That doesn’t make any sense either. He gets into a prestigious drama school, and gets kicked out for being depressed? Aren’t all artists depressed? Honestly, I think we’d offend a lot of people with that story arc. Could you at least show how his depression is handled?”

“No, that part is all right,” manicure lady says, shaking her head. “I get that sometimes college is harder than kids expect. It was for my son. That’s not the ridiculous part. The ridiculous part is that his boyfriend quit school to come find him.”

“They were engaged by then.”

“No, they broke up,” tall man corrects. “And he didn’t quit school, he enrolled in some kind of semester away program.”

“In the same town as his ex-fiancé? That’s convenient.”

Artie finally manages to get a word in edgewise. “Don’t you see? It’s like Romeo and Juliet,” he starts, but the rest of his explanation is cut off.

“Why, because society is against them? Doesn’t really seem like it. Everybody seems to love them.”

“No, they don’t, you ass. But Juliet was only thirteen, wasn’t she? And don’t they die at the end?”

“Well, it’s not _exactly_ like Romeo and Juliet-” Artie tries again.

The woman with glasses takes them off again, lets them swing from her fingers. “I didn’t get the part about one of them dating the other’s former bully. Is that, like, a redemption story? Or is it just bad judgment?”

“And I still don’t understand the surprise wedding. That’s off the rails. People throw surprise birthday parties, not surprise weddings. How did they even get a wedding license?”

“Enough.” A short woman at the end of the table clears her throat and the room falls silent. “I think it’s inspirational,” she says firmly, her steely gaze taking in everyone in the room. “The details aren't the point. A story of true love like this doesn’t come around very often. We could all use more of it in our lives. Mr. Abrams, you’re hired.”


End file.
